


A Little Lunacy

by black_hat_with_bells



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Dark fic, F/M, Possession
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:30:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_hat_with_bells/pseuds/black_hat_with_bells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna Lovegood has a very weird first year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ouroboros

**Author's Note:**

> Older fic is old. Moved from fanfiction.net. It's one of my early ones but I do hope to finish it. 
> 
> Author notes: Sincerest thanks to my beta-reader, Mistress Siana.

For what it was worth, Luna Lovegood loved many things, both the obtainable and quite the opposite.

Sometimes she simply felt too deeply and her short coming was in letting others know. Why keep in thoughts? Surely they were made to be spoken. What else were they there for, and if she tried to hold it in, she found she couldn't. They were pieces of her and she wanted to throw them into the wind to take root and grow.

But when did she learn this or have the need, this natural habit of digging down within and grasping, searching for something?

In her mind's eyes, her beliefs were fairly reasonable. The Minister's private army of Heliopaths for instance…it simply must be true for her father had gone to the Ministry once, when he was an Auror and saw the elusive creatures himself. But…

Where had the gaps in her memories taken root? How had she been before? How had she seen before her mother died? As age sets in, it seemed the end was always at the beginning. She had always been Luna.

Her awareness was with the stories, contained within their effects. Someone once said it was because of her father's stories that her penchants arose, but that was a bare, uninformed assumption. Assumptions themselves always fell over time when they had no reason or rhyme.

She had heard the stories before they were told. She knew the tales before they were unfolded with delicate precision. It was unthinkably natural to her. Because there was never anything said without a bit of truth held inside. Words were like an ornate vessel. Often one looked at the design rather than question what was contained inside the vessel. The world was full of designs, as was magic. It was easy to get lost.

She had begged for the re-telling many times, just before she drifted off into slumber.

"What did they look like, Daddy?" she would whisper, her notable eyes wider than usual.

Her father stood up from his place by her bed. She watched as he raised his long arms high above his head, creating a shadow that loomed on the quaint and warm wooden beams with cinnamon-like swirls that supported the roof above her head.

"They were gigantic, massive. Taller than me, with flames burning everywhere. Looked like I had walked right into the belly of a dragon. There were thousands of them!"

His smile crinkled down at her through tired eyes.

"And you know why they're down there, in the heart of the Ministry?"

He bent lower, beard brushing her head.

"Why?" she asked.

"To protect us of course! It's the army against darkness, my Lunette."

He swept her in his arms, seeing she was far from sleepy, and asked her what other stories she would like to hear. He had any type of tale stored away in the back of his mind waiting to be untied and looked forward to the telling as much as his daughter awaited the rendition.

It had been a year since his wife had passed away.

Artemus Lovegood had come home to a quiet house that day and perplexed by the silence, journeyed down into the depths of his wife's study. Potions and brews were spilled across the table that had seemed half destroyed and a continuous drip of fluid made a larger hole through the stone floor. Cream papers hovered in every corner, burned and smeared, and in the center of the room, in such a way it seemed to be the center of everything at the time…at the very center of the disorder that still was in motion was Luna kneeling calmly near her mother, holding a spiritless hand.

It was an image he could not wash away from his mind. Silver eyes peering under waxy blonde bangs waiting patiently… For what he never knew.

He didn't think it was him, now that he looked back on it. Her gaze held him where it seemed like an eternity they stared at each other, trapped in the moment. Then his daughter seemed to have found what she was looking for.

"She wanted to say goodbye, Daddy, we did wait. But she left before you came home," Luna told him, calmly.

He fell into grief. Perhaps a better way to say it was that he plummeted into grief without being conscious of it.

For months, he could only sit in a chair, lost within his own reliving of his life, and wonder what might have been if he had come home sooner. The war was over and had been over for years yet he still continued…

A little hand snuck though his own and he looked to find his child by his side.

"She broke the equation, Daddy."

The girl's eyes were serious and contained with understanding far beyond her age.

"With her wit, she found her treasure. She had to find it or else there never was the question without the answer. She told me that our lives are acts, not ideas. She lived."

The words scared him more than any dark wizard could, more than a thousand days like that homecoming, in a march of repetition. She had an understanding that no child should have and more importantly, could have. And the worst to him was the crystalline presence in her eyes. Her eyes were not cold by any means. It was a clear-cut, tangible presence of reflections he could even begin to comprehend.

From then on, he covered for his absence. He was repaying for his wrongs as well as his rights, it seemed. He had given so much to others yet when it counted, he had missed what he had…his Lunette was the only part of his wife he had left.

He feared so strongly that her childhood would slip away, dissolved by the potions that could burn through solid stone. In his dreams, well, his dreams were fear, due to reasons that he couldn't admit to anyone and unfortunately even to himself.

Much to the distress of the Ministry, he resigned as an Auror.

"There is still a lot of darkness out there, Lovegood. Lift up some of these rocks and you'll be surprised what slithers out."

He looked away from Moody's disconcerting gaze as he pushed his remaining books into the bag with finality.

"I know what pain you're going through but think…you have to send your little girl out into a world that needs to be fixed," the older man growled out, arms crossed with the air of judgment.

Artemus grew angry despite knowing the truth of the words. He was not weak for giving up. Moody didn't understand, couldn't understand! Let Alastor go save the world. And under the older man's unwavering sight, Artemus left. He would choose his confessions for himself, not for his colleagues or friends.

Every night he found himself telling her stories, stories that he needed as much as she did. Sometimes he even believed them.

"You've seen a Crumple-Horned Snorkack!" she asked, eyes alight.

"A glimpse," he replied lightly.

"You should write down what it looks like," his daughter muttered sagely. "So everyone can know about them." She paused. "Will I ever see one?"

"If you believe in them, you will. Remember, Lunette, you can only see if you look."

He tapped her nose playfully. She always remembered.

And look she did.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She scanned her copy of the Daily Prophet carefully, knees folded up onto the seat. Her father had loaned her it for something to read on the train. She would rather read his rough draft of his paper. They had talked about it eagerly after she had received her letter to Hogwarts. He was pushing to get it published, and her heart fluttered at the thought that the Wizarding World would have more truths to search after.

A small knock drug her from her thoughts.

"Excuse me, can I sit in here? Everywhere else is full, and my brothers don't-I can't find them anywhere."

"I think you'd like that seat." Luna motioned at the one opposite from her. "It doesn't look like it has been sat on that often."

She had chosen the compartment near the very back of the train because the barren compartment seemed in obvious need of use.

The small red-haired smiled nervously and sat down very quickly, pulling a small, black book out of her bag. She seemed to sigh in relief and held it close, then noticed Luna watching her. She fidgeted under the unblinking gaze.

"Oh, well, I almost left my diary at home and that would have been horrible of me. My mother was rushing around so, and Fred charmed all my socks to wriggle away from me and I couldn't catch them. Erm, they were very quick and burrowed behind the furniture where I couldn't possibly reach them. By the time I got them all, mum was yelling, and I was in the car when I remembered I had left it behind!"

Luna nodded, picturing quite clearly that formable dexterity of socks, especially the right sock.

"I imagine your diary would have been lonely without your thoughts all year," she said musingly.

Her henna-wild eyes widened, suddenly alert. "W-What do you mean lonely?"

"Isn't that what it's made for?" Luna asked.

Her friend stared and her nose scrunched up in confusion. Luna noticed she had a great deal of freckles that found a place on the bridge of her nose.

"Ideas are part of you, and so a diary is a part of you. It's no good going around in pieces," Luna explained.

"Oh. Right, I suppose," her companion chirped happily, crossing her arms over a small book and hugging it close.

"I'm Ginny, by the way, Ginny Weasley. All this is so exciting, isn't it? I've been waiting to go to Hogwarts all my life, after my brothers. My whole family was in Gryffindor. I'm so nervous about where I'm going to be placed. I've thought it through and someone told me that no other house would really fit me. I hope he's right because my mum would have kittens if I'm with the Slytherins. They're a horrible lot and I would die if I was put in that house. Ron wouldn't tell me how they go about choosing our houses. Fred and George were whispering about a troll, but they hushed up when I tried to listen. Ugly prats…and I don't mean trolls. I've asked everyone, but no one wants to ruin the surprise for me."

She sighed heavily and after looking back at Luna, seemed to remember something.

"You must think I'm loony going on like that, and I haven't even asked your name."

Luna smiled lightly.

"I'm Luna Lovegood. If you are worried, chase it away with other thoughts. Worries hate that because they like their space and there isn't enough room."

Ginny laughed, much to Luna's surprise.

"You know, that makes me feel loads better. But, seriously, what house do you want to be in?

"Wanting and being are two different things but my mother was a Ravenclaw. I would like to be in her house."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters? I have plenty of brothers, no sisters. I'm the only girl in my family."

"I'm an only child," Luna answered. "And, like you, the only girl."

Ginny raised her eyebrows again, smiling, and searched valiantly for another topic of interest.

"I like your necklace. What are those...Wizarding bottle caps?"

"And Muggle ones too. I made it myself. They've been everywhere, you know. Maybe all around the world, on all sorts of bottles, pockets anywhere really. Perhaps they were right by each other, on the same shelf at the same time. Think about how many people held them. And now I am. Do you want to hold them?"

"Er, no thank you. They are very nice bottle caps though…"

After a moment of silence, Luna noticed that Ginny's hands kept moving as if to open the book in her lap but then stop, almost in a self-scolding manner.

"If you want to write down your thoughts, go ahead. I don't mind."

Ginny looked relieved and after muttering a quick 'Thanks', she took to writing furiously in the small book. It was hard to determine if she ever raised the quill from the paper. The quill made a very dry, crinkling sound, rough around the edges. Luna returned to her carefully folded paper.

It was silent the rest of the way save for the scratching noise. She was thankful for the silence because it was hard to find the pattern in the newspaper without concentration as it was hard to read each word backwards and forwards. Upside down was the most difficult but she enjoyed it nonetheless. Secret messages were secret for a reason after all.

"You do know the Prophet is upside down, don't you?"

Luna looked up again to see her friend had paused in her writing and was studying her with a new look on her face that Luna couldn't decipher. Before she could explain, the train pulled to a slow stop and someone was bellowing for the first years. Ginny gave her one last departing glance before gathering her things and hurrying out, her bag banging against the door frame notably.

Luna didn't mind. She just didn't prefer hurrying. She might miss something along the way.

It was much better to take your time and notice the fabric of the different cloaks and how longs strings hung down further than others. That the glass was smudged by a traveler who had pressed his face against the panes, and it left a rainbow pattern while the window shook from the window as if someone was trying to get in, maybe a chameleon creature. The grass here was taller and greener and slightly curlier, with the shadows of birds darting though and the tracks were scrapped with red paint. She liked the feeling of the wind caressing her earrings against her face. She would have to get a bigger pair of earrings some day, maybe a pair that jangled. The stones were smaller along the path and nestled shyly into the dirt. She made sure not to step on too many so they could still see the light and be seen by others who walked this way.

She was shorter than most of her peers, she noticed, while peering around curiously. They were all quite tall, and she could measure them by more than just a few pairs of boots, if she were to place her father's boots by each of them specifically. It was great game, trying to find the source of the summoning voice while in the thicket of such a gamely gang. Sometimes the voices would interweave and she would have to pry them apart.

As she chose the most mute of the boats (for the moment of the crossing) she wondered if they would teach them a charm to walk on water. She had always wanted to walk on water but then again walking on air would be better and one could go more places and in more directions, she was sure. Her fingers were brushing the water in a languid motion and something brushed her fingertips. She didn't look at what it was. She imagined.

Luna was certain the castle had eyes. There was a light deep inside. It was a welcoming shadow of the past. The dusk was slinking through the cracks, like a prowling, grappling thing of old, like an old, wrinkled face. The light her mother had had was in the eyes. She had come home.

The boat itself was nervous, it seemed, so she stood on the prow, positioned and pretending about piercing through barriers. Her boat mates were not pleased. She noticed a tug around her neck.

The barrier, she thought alarmed. But one blonde, chaffy boy fisted his hands in her cloak.

"Oh, you're a great help," she said, cheerfully.

...Sometimes she just didn't understand people. Life is so full. Don't they have ideas, wonderful ideas that zing and sizzle and spark, and shouldn't they want to enjoy that they can think? She wished they would show more expression on their faces. They reminded her of cocooned caterpillars that never came out.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"My, my…" the hat whispered above her. "What a mind you have."

She listened closely, wondering how many heads this hat had sat on. She tried to picture each and everyone. She wished she could see their lives especially Gryffindor. Didn't he fight dragons and ride Griffins? The thought of the tawny hair in her fingers as she flew through the air made her made her hands itch.

Though, to be fair, she wouldn't mind seeing Fen with those fenny fellows.

'Our greatest strengths are our greatest weakness," the hat whispered. "Your mind is so rare. I haven't seen one quite like yours before…" the old voice shied away. She waited.

"You are loyal and very brave. Though I don't think you've known much fear, have you? But you are a thinker. Don't get too interwoven in your thoughts, my dear, as strong as they are. Remember what I said."p>

"Ravenclaw!"

The hat shouted while Luna wondered at the statement. As the hat was lifted off her eyes, she saw the reserved Ravenclaws politely clapping. It wasn't what the Gryffindors did at all. They howled and laughed and there was that one boy who kept trying to enchant the other's Prefect badge. She caught sight of an apparently bewitched fork that was doing cartwheels.

She realized she hadn't gotten up. The older, green robe-adorned woman with sharp features looked down at her with her lips pursed. Luna admired the color especially the splash of gold on the tips of the robes. She wondered what the symbols meant near the edges, wishing she could trace them and look them up later.

She wandered slowly over to her table. She felt eyes watching her. The Slytherins snickered. She wondered if they had caught sight of the fork as well and smiled. The plates were quite nice here, though at home she had painted as many in swirls. That is why she liked radishes; they had lots of swirls if you looked.

A brown headed girl was looking over at her bemusedly.

"Nervous?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you nervous or something? You shouldn't be. We don't bite."

Luna blinked. Who said anything about biting? How strange.

"I'm Marietta Edgecombe. Luna, isn't it?"

"Yes, that is what my parents called me."

Marietta lessened her smile. Unknown to Luna, the girl had interpreted her reply as sarcastic. To Luna, that was the answer, nothing less and certainly nothing more.

The boy across from her started to laugh behind his hand. Luna assumed he suddenly had a thought.

Next to Marietta was a beautiful girl with raven black hair. Luna was about to comment on the appropriate nature of her hair for this house. The light caught it like a rainbow again; glinting slightly were long earrings, plain silver. Yes, Luna wanted bigger earrings than that.

"Um, what are you staring at?"

"You," Luna said honestly. The girl gave her a narrow look. "Well, your hair, actually. It's very pretty in the light."

"Right," Marietta said, amused, and relaying a signal of annoyance down the table.

Such was the relationship with her house mates.

Then came the words. The bloody words on the wall, words so powerful that everyone changed…

But fear only changes so much.

One night she came back late from the library to find her trunk missing.

She stood in the middle of the dorm room in quiet wonder. All her books were in there as well as her deciphered Prophets. Could it be that the Ministry caught on to her investigation?

By the second month, she had found bits and pieces of a code.

'He. In Hogwarts. Fool daughter. Wait…'

Nothing direct but she was getting there. One had to count, and usually three letters made one letter. This pattern swayed through the articles on page six like a particularly elusive S.

Somehow she doubted anyone had come in the middle of the night to sweep away her findings. Then the House Elves wouldn't have moved it to be cleaned more. She bent down to see if it had been knocked under her bed by accident. She had been in a hurry and had moved it. She definitely recalled that.

It made her feel terrible. She didn't like misplacing things and some of her mother's pictures were in her album. Once she turned in her library books before she realized it and noticed her hands weren't carrying any books at all. That only happened when her thoughts were extremely busy, for instance, her thoughts were on the number of steps at Hogwarts and the ratio of how many steps on would take and see a ghost as a result or the turn of a stairway. She had made a chart which was also in said invisible trunk. Hmmm…

Luna tried to place her hand on where the trunk should have stood.

A slight snickering while she was on her hands and knees made her look up and see the curtains of her dorm mate, Eliza Wordsworth, snap shut. The noise made similar ones arise and soon it sounded like a monsoon.

She didn't understand the 'why' or the 'what for'. Moreover, she didn't understand what she should do or how she should respond. So she laughed.

It drowned all the petty snickers and curtains drifted open with startled faces. By now, though, she truly found it humorous. Novel joke, trunks disappearing, though she would have hoped for something more imaginative…

That was what amused her so…the lack of imagination. No jumping books, no rewriting texts, no transmuting quills, or a trunk that eats you! Just a lost trunk!

She fell to the floor with laughter. Now the curtains were fully open.

"She's gone mad. Off her rocker!"

"What do we do?"

"How would I know?"

"She could suffocate. Go get somebody, Eliza!"

"What's wrong with her?"

She calmed down and stood up and the room was graced with silence. Luna brushed off her robes, gathered her bag, and left without a word. A shocked pair of girls ventured to close the door, slowly, as if they were about to be attacked.

"She really is a loony" Eliza muttered, stunned, into the shadows from the safety of her bed.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Lunette.

How are you? I've been well, and the Publication will be coming through 

soon. Don't have a name for it yet. I was leaving that part to you. How is Ravenclaw? Hope you have made friends. I was thinking about having a lunch with you to read over it and maybe you can ask a few of your friends to come along. It would be nice to get more opinions on it.

With love,

Dad

Penelope Clearwater tapped her on the shoulder as she read her letter by the fire.

Looking up questioningly, Luna smiled.

"Yes, can I help you?"

Penelope frowned and sat across from her.

"I've heard some things from your dorm mates that rather concern me. I won't name the girl but she told me your trunk was taken. Why didn't you come to me about this?"

Luna blinked. It hadn't occurred to her to go to a Prefect. Her dorm mates wouldn't have taken the trunk if she was to tell and she didn't like telling on silly people for silly things.

"Oh, I don't think they meant any harm. It came back. Most of my things do."

Penelope paused for a moment, studying the first year.

"Luna, you might try to be…more…" Penelope struggled for a word. Luna watched her hands wave about her face as she searched.

"Sub..restrained with your dorm mates. I think if you tried to talk about their interests."

Penelope seized the words with fervor.

"You know you could try talking about classes, or, or music. Maybe clothing, I know Wordsworth likes that…"

"Oh. Yes, she does." Luna said, wishing she could say more.

She didn't quite know what Penelope was on about. She was getting along, smiling and everything. And clothes were just so boring but she did pretend to like them.

"I know what you're thinking. Listen, I am a Muggle-born and I didn't have the foggiest idea what my friends were talking about my first year. But I made an effort to learn about their interests. It's just best to get along, Luna."

Luna remained silent. She was interested in her dorm mates. Honestly, she was. She tried talking to them, about earrings and classes. Why wasn't Penelope talking to them about being interested in her ideas?

Luna nodded.

Penelope rose up with a smile.

"I'm glad we had this talk, Luna. I hope your year goes better."

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was past curfew when Luna looked up from her book. She was in a corner in the library, reading about the life story of Uric the Oddball and imagining his adventures, especially about the wild hunt. She pictured herself in her mind as him and was quite lost. She didn't realize the time had passed into a foreboding number.

Eleven-thirty, thirty minutes from the time the horns would blow and the hounds would be released to the hunt in a wild euphoria of dance, spears, and howls.

Ring the bells, the hunter is coming.

But Luna should be in bed, safe behind the suit of armor. Unless she was to be the hunted.

She danced away quickly, pretending to be fleeing as well as any quarry should. She didn't desire to run into any Prefects and most definitely not Penelope for reasons she didn't quite know. With her swiftness, she avoided the prowlers and things that lurked from the shadows, arriving at the suit at thirteen seconds till twelve.

"The basic use of Dragon Blood is as follows: besides being just a transmutation point, the proper anesthetics of the precise concentration can lead to prolonged life. It can be a summoning charm for ghosts and a looking glass if applied correctly with elder and reed. It can react with any form of poison, breaking down the basic structure of the composition especially with Runespoor venom. With lizard tongue, the blood becomes diluted and is applied for healing exercises, particularly with the charmed connection of Merrick's theorem. Both users can enter upon an unbreakable life blood where even their hearts are in sequence. For the Dark Arts, necromancy cannot be stabilized without it. During the reign of Grindelwald, the Ridgeback breed was almost wiped out due to prolonged use. Diluted dragon's blood can increase Legilimency, if dripped into the eye in precise concentration. Also for protection uses, for reference, there is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where every stone was melded with dragon's blood to ensure safety and endurance. In reference to immortality, check Hogwarts: A History, page. 186, line 60 for Nicholas Flamel."

She waited for the suit to spring aside. It did not. Luna's brow furrowed. The password, she was sure she had memorized it by heart. Had she missed a word? Then the monsoon came again.

"Tell you what, Loony…you say something that makes sense and we'll gladly let you in."

Luna was unaware that her house mates had come to the conclusion that she was having a jest at them all. She was very unaware and quite confused by what Wordsworth meant. Penelope Clearwater had changed the password that very morning and had told the Ravenclaws to inform anyone missing of the changes.

"Um, you like clothes."

A burst of laughter followed and Luna felt she had been quite badly advised by Penelope. It was now nine seconds to twelve.

"Without sense, you can make no change."

More laughter…

Time was running her down. It occurred to her that what they were looking for was a plea. It was clear and struck her hard. She couldn't and she wouldn't.

At midnight, the girls opened the entry to find that Loony Lovegood was gone.

Luna walked quickly back to the library, to her nook where she could wait till the light of morning eases all places for the monster of Slytherin to lurk. She began to think about what was out in the Forbidden Forest. She had stumbled upon some tracks during her last visit.

Could it be a new undiscovered creature?

It was patterned and bent and never left the ground. It didn't even seem to have feet. Perfectly parallel, never crossing, and bent many a bush. She tried to follow the tracks but suddenly they disappeared right into thin air. What she really wanted was a Lunascope, so that maybe with the proper illumination, she could see the creature.

It must be able to fly.

She was busy deciding what to call it. Rolling-Land Hippocampus had a ring to it!

She ran into someone rounding the corner. She dropped her book and fell backwards. It took a while to move her hair from her face. There in front of her was her friend from the train.

"Ginny?"


	2. Angles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mistress Siana for the beta-read.

For every cause, there is an effect.

Most wizards understood this law very well and adhered to it in all manner of magical mastery. But logic was not part of this law (unlike its Muggle counterpart) or their world, thus making the isolation of one Luna Lovegood quite the paradox.

Eliza Wordsworth was part of this paradox, rather the instigator that would set off a series of events with unforeseen consequences for a number of notable wizards. Including the Boy-Who-Lived. Especially the Boy-Who-Lived…

No matter how clever a Ravenclaw may be, they are not seers.

Eliza herself was a witch of extraordinary background, from a family known for their ruler straight adherence to rationality. Her mother was a researcher for the Department of Mysteries and a member of Investigators of Magical Menace and her father was a top-ranked Ministry official. Sense was of the utmost sensibility for these pure-bloods.

The problem for Eliza was Luna Lovegood was the most nonsensical of persons, who also happened to be a nasty, little showboat. An instinctive, natural enmity for the girl uncurled in the pit of her stomach just looking at the jangling bottle caps or her wispiest of smiles. If Eliza believed in such things, she would have considered the feeling to be an accumulation of past lives…in which Luna was her fated opposite and unwitting foe, with each rebirth, daring to become more…loony.

Eliza had watched the disoriented first year wander to the table after the Sorting Hat sealed her fate as a Ravenclaw, seemingly taking her time to get to a seat and drawing all the attention to her at the expense of her house mates. She was quite put off at the relay of snickers and rolled her eyes at her child-hood friend, Olivia Malvern.

Of course, she had put out the effort to be cordial at first. The first impression that had buried itself inside of her could always be covered up. To her credit, she had been nervous too, before her Sorting. She too had to endure the clicking of an invisible tongue in her thoughts, in her head. Indeed, it said, you shall live up to your expectations. 

This puzzling statement bothered her. Maybe the odd girl, who seemed to be of wild sort, had had an unsettling experience as well. As she had gazed down the table, feeling a thickening presence of a buffered disorder, Eliza had made a clear case for her house mate.

Surely, she had thought, this behavior is a case of nerves. I'll reserve my judgment until we exchange words.

A good rule of thumb. That had promptly failed. In this rare instance, instinct had prevailed over reason.

After the feast had ended, Eliza was introduced to her new place of residency all with the other first years. Strangely, the entire time she had been aware of Lovegood's presence. The girl, who had loitering in the back of the group, had mixed in the wrong line when the Ravenclaws had crossed paths with the Hufflepuffs, and had stopped to chat with portraits. Her voice sounded off to Eliza, up and down, or upside down. No distinct order and something underneath the voice that twisted, snapped, and popped. It was as if some ghost of a girl had decided to join them in their academic pursuits. Ghosts didn't have reason; there would be no need.

The girl, who had seemed to be attempting to take in the whole of the castle through her eyes, eyes that were never quite right. Eliza had felt distinctly the feeling of being observed and studied, like she wasn't on the same level as Lovegood. Like they all were interesting, funny creatures.

She had felt all this before they had even reached the entrance to the Ravenclaw Common Room.

Still, her initial approach was to be tested and tried.

Eliza and Olivia had found their room to be to their liking. A subtle shade of blue, not too loud. The room seemed fairly spaced, the right amount of the length between the beds. Eliza had been concerned. From the look of the other rooms in the castle so far, it could be safely assumed that most were mazes within themselves.

She had been in a decent mood enough to smile at Lovegood who entered the room last. Another first year had taken the bed next to her, thank goodness, so Luna had been left taking the one nearest the window.

Yes, she had felt better. Until she heard the humming. Well, it hadn't been humming. Humming implied a tune soft and with a melody.

The girl's motions were so haphazard, hands wandering here and there while suddenly pulled back as Luna changed her mind on the disorganization of her space. It was like watching a badly reenacted play, where everyone knew the lines except for the actress. In contrast to the restrained mannerisms of the others (who folded, pressed, and fluffed), Luna was a raging hippogriff. Moreover, there were sound effects.

'I think I will place you here…no, no, you wouldn't be in the light, how about in the window, oh, I had it in my hands, where did it get off to…"

And to Eliza's dismay, the rambling continued, muttered in extreme concentration.

"Oh, hello…" Luna whispered, sitting cross-legged among her scattered items, with a dreamy smile.

In shock, Eliza looked down at the mess in the center of their room.

A pile of rocks, mismatched socks that moved, onions, radishes, turnips, bent forks, clocks of all sizes with no numbers, brushes with only a few remaining prongs, books with pages half torn out, crumpled newspapers rolling about, feathers, brass knobs, hair in bottles (of what sort she could not tell), keys, and hats both tall, wide, and furry (that one moved), a live newt. Folded, preserved wrappers, all-seeing spectacles (which her father had except his pair actually had lenses), and circular disks…

"What are those things?" Melissa Fernhart asked, pointing at the disks.

"They're Muggle objects. My dad found out that Muggles use them to see rainbows, as they can not conjure up a storm to make a rainbow."

…dodgy-looking pair of teeth, dancing quills that clicked annoyingly upon the stones, broken bottles, a tea cozy, a pile of bottle caps, empty bird cage…the only normal things were her clothes and a photograph alongside her books. Examining the moving picture closely, Eliza assumed that was Luna's mother and couldn't resist the thought 'Looks like she didn't inherit her mother's features or her sanity…' For she assumed the woman was sane as her eyes didn't flicker as much as her daughter's and her smile was in moderation.

She felt a bit bad about that bubbling thought later but honestly, she was annoyed with the mess that seemed to creep into every corner of the room within minutes.

Something in her seemed to snap as it nestled itself smugly into the very back of her folded clothing she had yet to put up.

"Who do you think you are?" Eliza growled. "Bringing this rubbish into our dorm? Are you trying to be funny?"

Luna tilted her head, puzzled.

"I can tell you right now that I, for one, am not amused. And neither is anyone else. I know your type."

Eliza looked at the stunned face of soft spoken Fernhart and glared. Luna still looked perfectly puzzled and opened her mouth slowly, as if speaking to someone of low intellect.

"These are my things. And a dorm is a place for things. And…I've never really thought about who I am. I just assumed I was me."

"Well, you disgraced Ravenclaw today, for your fifteen seconds of fame, and apparently, plan to continue onward with your…sordid nonsense. I don't care about this dorm really, if you want to live likethis, you can do so. But, outside this dorm, I warn you …you'd better remember house pride and have some dignity."

A distinct look of hurt flashed in the girl's eyes but disappeared so quickly that Eliza wondered if her words had gotten through at all.

Luna continued to gather her things, replacing them and moving them about, humming another tune.

"What, can't think of anything outlandish to say, Lovegood?"

Luna had stopped, blinking up at her.

"Your last name is Wordsworth," she had said mournfully.

"What of it?"

The blonde shook her head slowly, sighing as if let down by some unnamable rule. That was when Eliza had realized…

No, nothing was realized at all. No amount of epiphanies could make Eliza understand why she, a normally kind girl, react so unlike herself, as if someone had snuck in through the back door of her head and used the Imperius curse. Why did she gain a discordant euphoria and desperation around her class mate? Subconsciously, nestled in the half of herself she ignored, was where the answer was.

Eliza Wordsworth was afraid of Luna Lovegood.

Afraid in the most basic sense…the most human sense anyway. Lovegood was unbound, seemingly beyond her subdued peers in thought or behavior, and then there was the lack of...there was innocence that some deep part of her wanted to crush. She began to see those erratic eyes everywhere, shifting from one focus to another, sometimes not there and sometimes…too aware…

She wanted to shake the girl hard, make her wake up. Make her look like the rest of them. What did Lovegood know? Did the twit dare think herself better than the rest of them, so much so that she didn't deign to act within normalcy? There was a scent of disaster on the wind with this girl. Wake up, so she wouldn't have to see a living cocoon waiting to break open.

Such thoughts had made a home in her head, making her first night before classes a battle for futile sleep. She pushed herself further down into her bed sheets, watching the curtains beside her suspiciously between the folds and struggling for rest.

Behind her shut eyes, lights danced and when her eyes shot back open again, a glowing, bouncing dart of light clanked and cluttered on the stone and threw sputtering sparks everywhere, one right on her clenched hand.

The brunette gasped in alarm, waving her hand as if it had been burned and fear making her head spin. The enchanted marble rolled its course charted by the cracks, and ended up under her bed. A second later, the curtains opened and a rumpled dirty blonde head, with her wand tucked behind her ear, poked out.

"Oh, Merlin, did you see where my marble went? They're my daddy's and he gave them to me before I left. I don't want to lose it."

"Sorry…I was asleep, like every sane person at this ungodly hour. I have no idea about the state…of your marbles, though I can hazard a guess," Eliza hissed and hurriedly shut the curtains. Late into the early morning, she heard the girl moving around the dorm in search of the missing marble but didn't come near her space.

The beautiful, mermaid-scale crafted stone lay gathering dust long after the War until an unsuspecting first year came across the lost treasure.

But, needless to say, Eliza's self-justified jab tore her nature into a chasm. That's when she decided to take action. It was a sense of reason that motivated her. Make Lovegood see reason.

 

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Eliza was in quite a turmoil when she threw open the entry to find a solid, uncaring stone wall and no Loonies, with confused (knowing) eyes, in sight. The cool space seemed to laugh at her.

Melissa peeked over her shoulder, gasping. Terry Boot pushed his way past her. Eliza didn't know why he had stayed around after several not-so-subtle hints had been made for him to do quite the opposite.

"What are you lot up to?"

And after not getting an answer, he had remained the whole time, pretending to be engrossed in a book. Until Loony tried to get in. He had tapped her shoulder in an annoying fashion, whispering "Do you think this is a good idea?".

Now, she realized, this hadn't been a good idea

"Bloody hell. Did you hear a struggle?" Terry turned in the corridor, standing judiciously as if he was ready to dole out blame.

"We've killed her…" Melissa broke out, grasping her hands in a nervous motion. "We left her out there, a-an-and the Heir took her. T-They'll expel us! Break our wands! My father-what will he say!"

She was cut off as Eliza shoved her. Boot sputtered indignantly at the act.

"What is wrong with y-?"

Eliza aimed her wand at Boot.

"Locomotor Mortis," she said clearly. After seeing her curse was effective, she smirked. "Best come in, Boot. Don't despoil the halls."

She sneered but inside, she was screaming.

"What is this?" he hissed, jumping feebly back into the Common Room.

"That will teach you to mind your own business, won't it? And you'll be in for worse if you don't keep quiet."

She freed the curse. The tall second-year flushed in embarrassment and anger and stormed out the stairway, muttering.

Eliza quickly Silencio-ed both of her companions.

"Now listen here, the both of you!" she choked out. "Think of your family, think of your future! There is no Heir, Fernhart. It was a ruse to mess with the perfect Potter and you know it, so don't be so naive! Loony wandered off to have a show while we tell on ourselves…when we did nothing wrong. She was out there already, by Circe, and a few extra minutes didn't kill her."

Fernhart whimpered slightly, her eyes suspiciously wet.

Olivia motioned impatiently at her throat and Eliza lifted the charm after delivering a scalding warning.

"I will not be a part of this ridiculous charade any longer. Sure… Some Slytherin was having a go at Potter. Let's go to bed before Boot comes down here again."

"If you speak about this later, to Flitwick, to anyone…you know my knowledge of hexes."

"I'm not in the mood, Eliza. I don't want this on my record any more than you do. And neither does Melissa. If you don't bring down the whole house with your shouting…"

Melissa muttered under her breath.

"Pardon?" Olivia eyed the hysterical girl with disdain.

"Th-there is a Heir. I know it. Dumbledore. I saw his face. He believes it and so do I."

"Dumbledore is just like Lovegood. Dramatics, that's all. I don't bet that many students are roaming the halls and pursing the Restricted Section now, are they? Makes his job easier," Olivia said, longing for her bed and stash of Chocolate Frogs underneath.

Yes, life was just right bloody dandy.

"I'm going upstairs," she proclaimed, feeling a headache settling in and turned her back on the two, with her head held high. Later she heard her dorm mates' bed rattle and Fernhart's sniffling which she blocked out with a muttered 'Tacitus'. Briefly, she wondered what the morning would bring and if she would be yanked out of bed by an Auror for questioning…she fell into a troubled sleep, dreaming about being trapped in a vault by the goblins that had revolted yet again.

Strangely enough, there was a Posnickel pinging off the walls madly, singing 'Beware the Hair, Beware the Hair,' to the offbeat tune of Warbeck's love ballads.

 

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Luna gazed up through her parted curtain of hair at the small Gryffindor. She had made no move to get up as she was knocked back rather hard. She had never seen someone at this angle anyways. Sitting back on her hands, she smiled dreamily.

This view did something quite odd to people's eyes.

Like make them flash and glint, darken…like an eclipse. Her father had taken her to see an eclipse of the moon, of any light, and she wondered if the moon would get sick of hiding eventually. It must be shy, coming out only in steps, moving the veil only a bit at a time. How rare with eyes, though. Luna decided she should sit like this more often.

The Gryffindor moved, drawing out her wand slowly.

'Oh, she doesn't need to pick up my books for me. Daddy always said clean up your own mess.'

Luna began to pick up her aged copy of Uric the Oddball, Merrick's Theorem: In depth, Moon Magic, and Underwater Mysteries: Merspeak Made Easy. She really didn't want creased pages, sighing as the books were spread-eagled on the ground.

She eyed the shoes in front of her all the while. Flecks of red were on the soles she noted. Maybe Ginny painted. That reminded her.

"Oh, I suppose your mum didn't sprout kittens then," she replied to the shoes. She replayed the words in her mind, wondering if that was the correct phrase.

There was a pause above her.

"I certainly hope not," Ginny replied, dryly.

A different beat. She loved listening to people's voices, with their own little beats, pauses, and intakes. It was their pulse. In the train, Ginny's was clipped and bouncy, and it went quite well with the train, barreling down a tunnel. These pauses were long and tone carefully crafted and woven, dipped into mahogany shine, and was coming from somewhere in deep in tunnel, somewhere part of the tunnel.

Perhaps she had just been nervous on the train.

"I'm terribly sorry about running into you. I was in a hurry against time. You see, past midnight, the castle comes alive, and I at least want to be in the library."

"Oh my, I wasn't aware of that. Whatever shall we do?" Ginny asked, in a solemn tone.

"Nothing to worry about. Remember the tricky thing about worries. Everything just shifts around a bit, and you don't want to be shifted. The stones move, and everything inside the walls come out for the night. But the books don't move, otherwise the library would never been organized even if Madam Pince kept at it forever. So that's the safest place."

"Inside the walls? Where did you get an idea like that?"

Luna blinked. Where…she didn't quite know exactly where. It had occurred to her secret tunnels and the like, and Ginny's tone reminded her of tunnels, and then the Oddball and things moving the stones, like clockwork and magical clocks when it chimed midnight. Such a strange question… to ask where an idea came from…they just pop about really.

"From my mind," she answered lightly.

It seemed that Ginny hadn't given much thought to…thoughts. Besides the walls have ears as her father is often fond of saying. She didn't want them to think too badly of Ginny.

"Ah, I see…What are you doing outside your common room, especially with monsters lurking about?"

Something was definitely drifting under that tone, tons of driftwood and deflated Quaffles and poisonous Nightshade.

For once, Luna withheld the truth.

"I just really wanted to finish reading, and my friends didn't want to be kept up. And…the library's the best place."

Ginny tilted her head with a smirk as if sensing her slight revision of the events. Well, she did want to finish her book. It wasn't finished unless she had read it again and could be inside it for a spell in order to wrap her mind around it (as her father said often).

"Words are like amaranthine, impossible for a true blue monster to understand," she finished, her hands tightening around the Oddball and feeling strangely self-conscious, a foreign and decidedly unpleasant sensation.

She assumed that is what it was…with her heart thumping like a moth ready to burst from her mouth.

"So a monster will not be in the Hogwarts library."

This declaration seemed to delight the red-headed immensely, where she shook with ill-disguised laughter. Luna thought she was being very silly indeed.

"Ah, vide de sens poetry. How very Ravenclaw."

She didn't much care for that at all, her unease burning up inside her like a thousand candles. She didn't understand the words but knew what they meant. Feeling caught in a net she was determined to get free from, Luna made to go by the first year.

An arm shot out to stop her.

"A prefect is down that corridor. I just passed him. In fact, speak of the devil…"

Footsteps drew closer to the pair, a light indicating the progress of an illuminating hand of justice. She was momentarily distracted by the way the magicked light bounced off the windows and made the designs appear to be like a net, where the whole of Hogwarts was captive. Petrified, she shuddered as the cyan glimmer reached for her feet ready to snatch her away but a hand on her cloak pulled her back into the shadows.

"Confusio."

Luna saw her hands turn a stony grey and bloody woven design. They had blended into the hallway. It was the most marvelous sight! Or no sight at all, a dash of magic on them both, spinning around like a web! Spinning with her arms outstretched, she was this magic.

Luna repeated the spell once more in her head. Usually it helped her to speak it out loud or tap it out with her wand. She found she couldn't speak with the small hand covering her mouth.

Two alert prefects marched around the corner in equal stride, one with red-hair a remarkable shade not too terribly off from Ginny's. The other was the one person Luna sought to avoid: Penelope Clearwater.

"As I was saying, believing in this rubbish is fatal to morale. I know Harry Potter myself. He spent the summer with my family. He's very quiet and of course, polite, but still even after we tried to make him feel at home, he was the standoffish sort. A tad bit arrogant if you ask me, though my mother adores him…what I am getting at is we should calm down and not jump to conclusions. It might be a cry for attention. My younger brothers are the same way, and I can spot a prank a Quidditch field away. I thought better of you, Penelope, than how you're acting. Honestly."

Penelope was a dull red, her strides harsh and blunt. The discordant sounds made Luna wrinkle her nose.

"Well, it's not as much of a problem for someone like you as it is for someone like me, Percy. Did you not hear what that Malfoy brat was yelling? You can be so inconsiderate and boorish sometimes. I don't know why I put up with you," she said, as tightly as a string about to break.

"I can think of a few reasons," Percy crowed and draped his arm over the startled Muggleborn. In fact, Luna thought he looked exactly like a rooster with his hair sticking straight up and his steps that made him hop and bob. But such a display should always wait until morning. The night was too soft for roosters and their feathers would be thick blots everywhere. Apparently Penelope had a similar impression.

"You really assume that will…You are a sexist pig, Percy Weasley."

She huffed off with the rooster flapping after her.

"Quibbling, puerile half-wits," Ginny hissed behind her, in disgust. Luna's eyes widened considerably, if that was possible.

"Say that again," she pleaded, enthralled.

She was shoved away and Luna frowned. Never mind. She could say it herself and even better.

"Quibbling," she muttered, pronouncing it long then slow then sharp.

"Bling, QuiBbling…" she sang to herself. Yes, she felt it in her very being. It rang a chord down her spine. She danced it out on the floor, tapping her feet to the syllables.

Ginny Weasley looked faintly ill, glaring daggers at her and mouth starting to contort like a half moon. The knuckles that held the wand grew white as Cyprus Creepers.

Luna felt saddened at the reaction at her hued interpretation. It really was a nicely woven word

"Well, it left your lips," she whispered. "It can land on mine, you know. It might like mine better. I can't help that."

"You…Cr-!"

A war seemed to be raging in those brown eyes that looked more like a seal or a door, with something waiting to come out. Then quite suddenly the storm was over. Ginny seemed to relax, her shoulders un-tensing. In fact, her skin was almost translucent, brown freckles as dark as ink. Her breaths came fast as if she had been dancing herself for a much longer while.

"Too long…" she muttered. Luna tilted her head in question.

"Since I've had a decent sleep. My brothers have been locking me out of my common room, giving me a right time of it. You seem to be in the same predicament."

"But-I have no brothers. Nor sisters," Luna protested.

Ginny held up her hands, well one hand wearily. The other that still gripped her wand trembled violently, twitching as if wanting to break free off the arm it was bound to. Perhaps she had been practicing swish and flick. Luna's hands had been the same way after she finished her thirtieth attempt.

"I-that's not the-that's not the point. I will get you…in-your common room if you kindly tell me-where it is l-located."

The beats were switching back and forth now, like a vibrating Fizzing Whizbee. Luna decided that Ginny Weasley must be very, very tired. She put a hand out to pat her head, that's what her father used to do when she was ill. Ginny looked scandalized, jerking away as if burned. Well, each to his own.

Like Penelope said. Oh.

"I can't tell you where it is. That would be breaking the secret and my house mates' trust. My father said trust is only as good as what you put in it. It's like it has very fragile wings. You must be careful with it."

"What does your fa-father do, pray tell?"

"Oh, he's a journalist! He writes the truth. About the Ministry, about Crumpled-Horned Snorkack which is very elusive, so many wizards don't even believe them to exist but-."

"I think I have a ge-general idea. But your house mates…they've already, how did you so prodigiously put it…yes, b-broken a wing or two. Besides, I have no interest in breaking the illustrious mystery of the Ravenclaw common room."

Luna paused in thought. Ginny was right. They had not wanted to let her in. So should she want to be let back in? She honestly didn't care. Already, she had planned to slip in just for her books and necessary items. But Ginny seemed to want to help her reenter her house.

"All right," Luna said slowly. "I suppose it will do no harm."

She began leading the Gryffindor to the suit of armor, with her books in tow.

"They won't find out. How could they? I don't plan on telling them. Oh, I-I have a favor to ask."

"How can I help you?" Luna replied, sincerely. "Questions are meant to be asked, you know."

"Ah, good," Ginny said a little too brightly, though Luna thought her mood must be improving. "My brother, that red-haired…Prefect, would not like that my other brothers have been te-teasing me. But I don't want him h-hovering over me. You can understand why, I trust. So can we keep this whole inci-dent between us? A-as friends."

Luna smiled kindly. She knew something was amiss. She saw it as clear as day in the poorly lit hallows of Hogwarts. But she didn't know what exactly. Her father said a good journalist gathers his evidence first. The words 'As friends' fell down into the place where she stored her hope though. Luna decided to wait, carefully observing, while not losing a potential friend her own age that notably has a love of words as well. It occurred to her that the two Ginnys were merely a figment of her imagination. She'd heard of everyone having a twin in the world but it would be so confusing having two there, when Ginny had mentioned she was the only girl. Surely world twins (unlike birth twins) would be on the opposite side of globe, as a balance.

Ginny truly must have been nervous. Or…

She would wait.

Luna stopped in front of the armor which snapped at the two grumpily.

"How typical," Ginny muttered. "Do they never…"

Luna raised her eyebrows.

"Never…oil him? I've asked since he seems so creaky, but I never really got an answer," she finished, darkly.

Ginny raised her wand.

"Oh, how do you do magic in the corridors?" Luna gasped, curious. "That would be the most wondrous of things to know."

Ginny laughed again, amused.

"You know what, refresh my memory. You are Luna Lovegood, are you not? I have been out of sorts lately, so forgive me if I am mistaken."

"You are not. Mistaken, I mean. We met on the train, in the unused compartment next to the fortieth window, on the left, just by the door that was off its hinges and the seat with the rusted springs coming through..."

"Yes, yes, I remember now. Just checking, you see. This has been such an experience I fear my memory might become cluttered."

"I know! I've felt the very same way! You just have too many ideas and not enough time!" Luna exclaimed, waving her arms about in expression. Someone might get it, why she was always in such a rush, and the prospect excited her.

"Time has always been my greatest enemy."

Luna noticed the rhythm had settled back into her friend's voice. Beat, pause, beat, pause…the eyes remained locked. There seemed to be a riddle in her words, an unanswered, posed question. And Luna was drawn in against her will.

"Enemy…is a strong word for a force. I rather think of it as a great door. If you don't know the password, you might be stranded for an equally great while, in a maze where you see only what you haven't done."

Ginny's eyes widened a bit and something flickered. It might have been a winged key, for it fluttered away before she could snatch it.

"You are…not like them, are you? You are different. They won't understand, so they bar the way against you. How does that feel to you?"

Honestly, she had not given it much thought, which vaguely disappointed her. She would have to think more of it. She stared at the suit in consternation, humming lightly while considering the question.

"I suppose…I don't feel anything…about that. I don't believe it is worth feeling about. While they might not understand me, I don't understand them. That makes two wrongs, and there could be a third something, as things always come in threes, but that has not come, neither a wrong or a right... So I don't blame them, if that's what you are asking."

Ginny looked vaguely put off by her answer, eyes darkening to liquid shadows.

"Sometimes you can make them understand, you know…Luna. Even with your ingenious answer, I do wonder…"

Ginny cut herself off forcefully and gave an arched smile, reminding Luna a bit of the eclipse once more. How much would she see before the whole face was covered again?

"But I have left your question unanswered, haven't I? My wand…is a hand-me down and I'm not quite well matched with it. So my wand work is not powerful enough to be noticed by the sensitive detectors in the school. Even though it is effective, it is crude, artless if you will. My parents are saving up for a new one."

Luna nodded, well-aware of the necessity of wand compatibility. Hers was mostly at odds with itself. Mr. Ollivander commented on her wand being made from the wood of the apple tree and a core of dragon heartstring.

"Magic itself though…the very idea of the magic itself is more potent and enough for the bare minimum, if you can channel the energy through other mediums," Luna muttered.

"Precisely," Ginny said, seeming surprised. "Now let me show you the proper way to get around physical barriers. First I shall do it wrong. Then you tell me why, if you can. Abscido absconditum!"

The spell left the knight unaffected and it merely clanking in a mocking, empty laugh of triumph. There was a pause and Luna realized Ginny was waiting for her, eyebrows raised expectantly. Luna dove into the problem post haste.

The spell kind of bounced off in a fashion, and she pictured a form of Doxy fairy biting an unresponsive Hippogriff for some reason. Bouncing off in fact, because the tail would knock it away…so if it came from a different angle, it would succeed. Like the moon hitting the water becomes slightly larger and goes deeper, almost sinking in some parts of the world, unlike the Great Bear constellation which never sinks, because of the myth and then again, because it is not in the proper angle, right above, was it? With her mind full of bouncing Bluggers and ricocheting Billywigs, she answered.

"The angle. If you hit it at a different angle, with rotation to the wand, the magic will flow with the intensity, and the natural motions will cause the magic to penetrate deeper into the barrier thus making it separate from the main charm."

Ginny simply repeated the spell once more with her wand angle more pronounced and the suit sprung aside, quoting Bellwings Apparation-Displacement Theory. Ah, so that's what it was!

"Thank you," Luna said, sincerely. She hadn't been looking forward to spending the night in a stiff chair, even if it was around books and in her special nook by the window.

But she felt no victory, as it was not her knowledge that had opened the knight. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, she hurried inside and turned to say her goodnight.

That Ginny Weasley seemed to be an idea was her sudden impression. An instrument that played a tune she had yet to pick up.

Yes, that is what she seemed to be, except for the hair and the eyes which had a mind of their own. Luna's eyes were the same at times though the rest of her seemed to support her eyes. At least she thought so. Luna wasn't afraid because she liked ideas, very much so. Yet it was out-of-place…Can a person think so much as to become an idea? Luna didn't think so.

"You know…are you okay?" Luna asked quickly, not wanting to offend. Her father had not looked alright yet he insisted he was, almost defensively. This question was the one Luna always circumvented besides from now.

"Never better," Ginny responded, inwardly laughing though Luna could hear it. "I'm just glad you are safe in the Tower of Babble once more. Now I can go back to my own humble common room, since you've helped me so much with that spell. I just couldn't quite crack it."

Luna was tempted to ask more about this Tower but felt distinctly off-kilter in terms of conversation. So she smiled instead and turned to go.

"About that maze…lovely description. But I think you forgot to mention the monster inside the labyrinth, since as every good story goes, there always is one."

Luna bit her lip, rethinking her words.

"Yes! But I don't think, in time, that there is much room for a big one in external, real space. It should come from the opposite way, which could only be inside."

By the time she looked up to see if the girl understood, the small Gryffindor had left. Luna shut the door calmly, wondering at what was causing her heart to be so. It was as if she had been fleeing the whole time instead of having a conversation. She fiddled with her necklace nervously, sitting by the dimmed fire.

It was pointless to venture upstairs to go to sleep. The shivers running down her spine were not going to allow for Morpheus to come tonight or today as it was.

She pulled a piece of parchment from her bag and began to compose a letter.

Daddy, 

I think I have stumbled across the briniest, springiest of words for your paper…

 

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Eliza could not figure out how Luna had gotten past the knight.

Every morning would find Lovegood curled up in front of the fire, when she would miss the new password by wandering off before breakfast.

Eliza thought this was an indication of something foul and suspicious. She watched Loony obsessively, waiting for the finally chips to fall.

The other Ravenclaws had fallen under the correct assumption that Lovegood was a bit off.

They did not speak to her, allowing her to sit at the end of their table without one ounce of attention. How could they give her attention when even the smallest bit was repaid by flights of fancy?

The most fitting punishment for an exhibitionist…yet Lovegood didn't seem to mind, reading, drumming her fingers upon the table, or merely staring off at a fascinating, invisible pink troll that they could not see.

Often Luna would spend the time transfiguring beetles to radishes, or turnips, and the like in the common room. There was the time she took placing socks on the knobs, to make them warmer for when people went to open the doors. Eliza was an unfortunate victim, along with Cho Chang, of incidentally placing her hand on the covered knobs while distracted…in other words, putting their hands on Loony's socks.

Luna worked tirelessly on using spells to manipulate glass and putting the pieces up to her eyes to see, as she put it, with another angle. Her unnaturally large eyes would peer through the circles, magnified to the size of a giant insect. Yes, for the whole week, all she babbled about was angles and eclipses (or was it ellipses?). She claimed to actually see through the walls and the magical currents and Nettlett's running about (which were very small). Eliza wondered how long they were expected to put up with this nonsense.

When was Clearwater going to take action?

"Can't you do something about her?" Edgecombe demanded of a haggard Penelope, after she had cornered her near the working desk.

The whole of first years through seventh years had retreated from the girl who had become to sing so loudly it hurt their ears. Eliza had told her to shut it, only for the singing to be replaced by tapping.

Penelope huffed up, closing her book and muttering about exams. They watched with baited breaths.

"Luna," Penelope began gently. "Dear, some of us are trying to study. It might be best if you took yourself outside. The weather is very nice today."

"Oh." Luna gazed at the rest of her house mates in surprise, as if just realizing they were in the room with her. Eliza was satisfied to see a look of unease pass upon her face. "The weather is very nice…today. Like it was yesterday. I shall go and make sure it didn't change."

Luna gathered her books and left.

"She is such a freak," Chambers declared to Chang. As if anyone doubted that. Chang pretended not to hear the remark, looking uncomfortable.

Eliza felt the swells of victory ahead. So when the weekend started and no sign of Lovegood at the table during dining hours, in the common room, or best of all, in the dorm...

Eliza saw that, to her immense pleasure, the Hufflepuffs were quite effective allies, though the Slytherins were more caustic and damaging. The Slytherins had perfected the art of mental isolation and torment and that was the method employed by the first years. But, strangely enough, the Hufflepuffs were better.

"Excuse me, do you not hear the words that are coming out of my mouth? Do you understand? Think…" Elizabeth Libbet hissed at Luna during Charms when Flitwick had assigned the poor soul to help Lovegood get Swish and Flick right. After half the class being wasted on trying to be helpful, Libbet seemed to have entered upon the annoying existence of Nettlets and Posnickels.

Luna continued overdoing the motion, blushing slightly and looking ridiculously confused, and Eliza was in heaven.

There, there, clear evidence, she reasoned. Clear evidence of Lovegood's mental capacity.

Luna seemed near tears at the end of that lesson for as a Ravenclaw, intelligence was the most valued.

The one thing that would affect Lovegood…Eliza stored it away for further use.

On her way out of the classroom, she made sure to whisper about Flitwick looking so disappointed for some reason. Luna kept her eyes down and repeatedly organized her notes (more drawings of her imaginary creatures) until Flitwick told her see him after class.

The Gryffindors were too concerned with themselves, as were the Slytherins to take notice of the oddball, except laugh and sneer. Eliza wondered how the girl knew the Quidditch match was even scheduled, for no one from any house would have told her.

Yet on the day of the Gryffindor and Slytherin match, Eliza saw those enormous turnip earrings and groaned.

 

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Her first real Quidditch match had been one full of broken wings.

It seemed none of the seats wanted to be sat on. They would recoil back when she would near them. They must be very shy now, after being sat on, occasionally in bad weather, for so long. She might be wearing too bright of colors, though looking down all she had was bronze and blue.

Or her house mates were…

Luna sat herself on the top of the stairs that gave a much better view when the players appeared in between the sea of heads like darting paper moths or overly large birds of the tropical sort. She watched for a few moments, letting people walk around her on her perch. She learned to discern between them by three ways: whether they wore tennis shoes or boots, whether unlaced or triple-knotted, and whether they stepped on her mother's old cloak or not.

She considered the way the whole pitch seemed like a wild banshee gone mad, with waves of shouts and curses floating above her. She timed how long the shouts from the opposite side of the pitch reached her. She was a boat lost at sea, only the flying type and did hope the birds got out of the way she would hate to hit them as Occamies were very rare nowadays.

Maybe she was dreaming being here. She had done that before, went through the whole day only to wake up and realize she hadn't embarked on her day quite yet.

She wished it would rain. The Rolling-Land Hippocampus would come out from hiding as it doesn't like water. If it came out, they would believe her.

The whole pitch swelled and she wondered if the tip was overflowing, and then she saw the boy with broken wings fall to the ground. The place was swarming and she couldn't get within range to get a proper view.

She felt the impact though, of what had happened and it made her dizzy. Once broken, wings tend not to heal the same way ever again.

It was quiet where she stood, as her house mates pushed against one another in confusion, amusement, concern, or just because.

How strange. After all, it was a time for silence.

 

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Luna had a deep fear.

How could one look for something when one doesn't quite know what one is seeking?

What if you didn't know to seek? For if you know what you are looking for, then you have already found it, haven't you?

It bothered her. So terribly she didn't bother to use the spell Ginny had taught her. Luna preferred to sit by the window for now, as fall turned to winter, and she didn't want to miss anything.

The Prefects never searched the library. They knew the inherent truth about monsters as well. It was instinctive…monsters lurked in shadows and empty places. Luna felt loads better in the Hogwarts Library. She loved eyes, just not so narrowed and distant. The library was the best place, with the Forbidden Forest coming in for a close second.

In the Forest, you could see the night become day, then in the library, the day become night. Luna wondered which had been first. Like lumos was magic unspoken from a former nox, and then the same…like a song un-played. It existed before the instrument, right? Luna preferred that to the latter. It made her the most happy and she hummed a few songs to make them real, in the quietness among the mounds of paper.

Someone chuckled.

Luna looked up, curious. It suddenly seemed cold, a distinct chill in the air. Her hair stood up on her arms as a result and she imagined her breath misting before her. Wrong…this feeling was wrong.

She stood up slowly, wand at ready. Yet there was a bigger presence here. Maybe just because it came from the air. She thought of chameleon creatures once more. Then her skin bleeding to grey…

"Ginny?" she whispered. "Is that you?"

Or her other half…

"Please don't let it be," Luna found herself reciting. Ginny had seemed to accept her, if not just a little bit. She rather it be a true blue monster than the red-head. Footsteps seemed to circle around her, pacing and waiting. Oscillating between an unspoken decision, question, answer…

Luna counted, memorized the rhythm. And she couldn't help it, mimicking it back with her feet. She wanted to remember it, store it away for later. She was angry that she could not, for the life of her, remember how Ginny Weasley walked. If she had, she would know for sure whether it was her or not.

The footsteps stopped, cut off suddenly, possibly confused by her own rhythm drowning its rhythm. Luna stopped as well and stood defiant. She told her eyes to look differently.

Look for the shape, not the color, the shape, find the shape…

She caught it by the bookshelf H-L, by Hogwarts: A History…a deviant of movement, of presence there. Something hissed behind her. Hissed!

Luna spun around, leaping away from the hidden foe. Chameleons don't hiss. Chamelions do! Then it could be a snake under her chair. Or Libbet had gotten confused on her way to dinner.

"Consigno memoriam," she whispered as the sound grew more menacing. Her breath caught. It was coming from everywhere, from the walls. Oh…something coming out of the walls…

Luna lost sight of the deviation. She knew something was coming, unwinding its way towards her. She could sense it in the nature of the sounds around her and then the abrupt halt.

Coming closer to devour her. Never had she been so aware of the colors, the fires, and the coldness...spreading over her limbs to the tips of her fingers.

Luna grabbed her bag, suddenly bombarded with the sense that the castle was alive and hostile. In the belly of a real, live monster.

She began to run.


	3. Language Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mistress Siana for the beta read.

Sound travels faster.

Luna was thankful for this law as she darted out of the library, plunging into the deep shadows that lined the corridors. She didn't want to get caught out of her common room for after all, she had only wanted to clear her head. Why was it that when you state a law that it tends to unravel? She felt tricked, utterly fooled. Her one safe haven had been intruded upon.

It was like running right down the throat of the monster rather than away from it. She gripped her wand tighter, trying not to focus on the noise or the shapes on the wall. For once, she didn't imagine what this creature could be…for once her thoughts had fled before her, maybe reaching safety before she could.

She gasped as the stairs moved. She had hit too many stones running. A bitter feeling welled up at the thought of her misplaced chart. Before she realized it, Luna found herself on the wrong floor.

Either it was a very tiny bird monster that turned corners very sharply, a vapor creature that oozed though the air, propelled like one of the FellyJellies (explaining the hissing very well), or it was in the walls.

She stopped so she could try to get an idea of where the creature was, crouching behind Boris the Bewildered and listening carefully. When it was quiet, that's when the significant things took place.

Then the light changed. A new shadow added to her shadow. It was in the corridor. She crouched lower and closed her eyes tightly. It always helped her to think. Sometimes beasts might be soothed by hearing their own noises back at them.

There was a sliding on the stones, something scaly rubbing against the stones as if this corridor was too tight a fit. There was a stale scent in the air. The heaviness of it covered her like a shroud, and she hoped it covered her from sight. It wheezed with a dry wetness, rasping. Tears were forming behind her closed eyelids.

She whispered, "Reddiditum memoriam."

The pattern of slight hissing issued from her wand. Luna hoped for the best and kept her eyes closed to breathe. It was colder where she was…she imagined a giant head over her head, shadowing her small figure. She might have also imagined a hiss with a definite surprised note. Laughter was threatening to bubble out of her and she cupped a trembling hand over her mouth. She peeked over Boris's scrunched up shoulder to see if she was right.

Nothing there.

She brushed her robes off lightly. The air even tasted different when one wasn't afraid...when one was alive.

Luna decided right there and then. She wasn't ever, ever going to be afraid. All fear did was make one unable to think or rationalize. All her thoughts had tasted fear and found it more repulsive than a salmon flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean.

She had to halt a few times as a Prefect would walk quickly by. The thing was…they were afraid. So they could not see her when she ducked behind the statues and blended into the scenes in tapestries.

Luna thought the knight looked particularly beautiful tonight, with all its spots and rusted hinges. She made it inside and collapsed in her customary chair. What a wonderful thing it was, to be able to sit and let her mind catch up. She walked around looking at portraits. She did a few tricky Defense Against the Dark Arts questions on a spare bit of parchment. Her book was still missing.

She whispered her spell once more, listening to the sibilant noises (orders?). It varied too much, twirling and biting into itself. Her flesh crawled again. Her hands were wet with sweat.

When she awoke, she found that a few grapes had been placed by her hand. Startled, she sat up and watched them roll across the thick carpet.

'What on earth…'

Luna decided to look up if grapes could be a death omen…one can never be too careful.

 

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The next day was one of whispers. Colin Creevey had been attacked on his way up to see Harry Potter.

"It wasn't Harry Potter!" she declared to the startled Hufflepuffs and their ringleader, Libbet. "If you'd think about it, he had been injured. If he was injured, he wouldn't have been able to injure Colin. If you have any sense then that should make sense."

The Hufflepuffs ignored her. Truth indeed…it was as if they wanted it to be Harry Potter. She couldn't understand why. Why should it be someone whose name is easy to know and repeat? Why should it be someone who had been so hurt in life? If you had been hurt, why would you cause hurt? He was a very good flyer too, if she was remembering properly. Someone with harmful, heavy thoughts would not be light enough to fly.

It was common sense.

"Was I talking to you?" Macmillan retorted when Luna stopped by the Hufflepuff table. "Stop eavesdropping."

"I can't help overhearing you. You are whispering so loudly that I thought you wanted everyone to hear you. Don't you think you should wait for the facts?"

"What would you know about facts, Loony?"

"Oh, so you're Loony Lovegood," another one said excitedly. "That dotty Ravenclaw who wanders around with her he-."

Luna thought that was a good time to leave as the conversation was losing its focus point. Potions had been by far the worst.

Professor Snape hadn't bothered to quell the talking among the cauldrons. In fact, his lip was curiously uncurled.

She found herself pouring in a little more than was necessary, but it was reacting most wonderfully. It was even stirring itself, making ripples across the surface and that was an indicator of a good potion.

Maybe if she trained her eyes to look like that more often, she would see that shape again. Oh! The pattern too…the rhythm of the steps! Luna gasped. She could have been searching this whole entire time for the insidious pacer. She looked around and then she saw something curious by the window.

Was it the shapeless shape?

A spotted hand slammed down in front of her, knocking over her quill and ink. It bled into a thick, noxious-smelling substance that was also spreading over the table.

The potion was running over. Snape's black eyes bore into her light ones. His eyes were quite inky, almost void of any light, as if someone had just decided to paint his face than give it any other expression. How unusual…if it rained, he would lose his face. And how would he see? Or talk?

"-a menace, Lovegood. An abysmally harebrained menace. It's a wonder that you're even in this school, least of all in Ravenclaw. If you are not going to use your brain for this potion, if you have one, then leave!"

Luna put her quill in her bag and walked out.

Snape seemed to go into shock, staring after her with his mouth half-open. The remaining students looked at him thunderstruck, with their own potions forgotten.

The Potions master turned his glare upon them all. He didn't have to say a word. They hastily returned to their tasks.

 

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It was quite strange that a professor would let her leave but she always wanted to do as a professor said, if it was within reason.

Harebrained…hares were quite quick, weren't they? She had wished he hadn't shouted so. It was quite an unhealthy way to express oneself.

It seemed a great deal of students had sought the sun for today. The colors of red were the strongest as a batch of Gryffindors sat huddled by the lake, trying to bait the giant squid to stick out a tentacle. Of course, giant squids are fond of pudding, not treacle tarts.

She stood in the middle of the courtyard, unsure of which way to go. But if you didn't know where you were going, did it matter? All she knew was that she didn't want to go towards any blue robes today.

Luna found a nice spot under a tree, near the edge of the forest. She saw the huge figure of the grounds-keeper by his hut, eying a wire pen. Luna wondered if he was clearing his head or just looking at invisible shrinking Chibledingers that moved very quickly indeed.

Something dark and glistening flashed in the corner of her eye

Right by her, standing to the side was a winged…corpse of a horse. A bat-cross of a horse perhaps, a thing born of knots and under water…

Luna remained perfectly still, watching. It really wasn't that horrible to look at for it seemed it was just a part of the world, of a cycle that no one wanted to speak of. Yet there it was, right there, the Quietus of the Forbidden Forest.

Before she realized it, she had crept closer, reaching out to touch it. It turned its gaze on her, lifting a shredded wing.

"Don't run. I won't hurt you. You…you have to let me know if you're…real."

And that she wasn't loony, dotty, and that her mind didn't play tricks on her.

She had to know if what she believed in was what she had a right to believe in. Luna was beyond fear at this point. If her hand went through this specter then she might really be Loony Lovegood, not Luna Delphine Lovegood.

"You're not so bad," she whispered to it, with its skin not too rough. She followed its sightless gaze over towards the castle. "You know, don't you? That Hogwarts has a necrosis in it, something eating away at all that makes it magic. Can you tell me what I should do?"

It gave no answer. At that moment, a herd of second year Slytherins walked by, laughing their heads off at the girl who seemed to be talking to thin air.

"That one should be in St. Mungo's with the rest of the crazies," a pug-nosed girl commented rather loudly.

The dark horse left due to the unpleasant sound, and it disappeared into the thick of the forest once more. Luna picked up her paper. No matter what they said, she didn't have the crazies, which sounded like bugs to her. No…she was right.

Luna walked past with her head held high, wondering at how time flew by. The sky had grown crimson and the leaves were scattered about like a great rug, and you could walk with a spring in your step due to them. Maybe Leaf-Ruffled Platners were hidden under them.

Something red stood out at her, among all the brown and pumpkin orange. It was a feather and a big one at that, marvelous and a harbinger. She placed it behind her ear and continued on her way, hoping she wasn't too late for dinner.

 

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Snape hadn't been as understanding as it had appeared.

"A hundred points," Penelope breathed at the table, waving her goblet about in the air. It made a prism of colors on the otherwise dull table and she saw a bird dart by. "Never…never in the history of this house has that many been taken away because of one student, Lovegood. I'm this close to reporting you to Flitwick. If you weren't a first year…" Penelope narrowed her fingers to demonstrate how close she was, though Luna believed the portion was a bad analogy seeing that it was more a mind frame. Besides a large particle of dust could be in between her fingers and dust shouldn't be involved in the mind, unless you have an empty one.

Her house mates were stale-faced and empty-eyed, and she really wanted to go elsewhere.

"And you skipped the classes after the fiasco with Snape. Do you not… Snape sought me out, in my potions class, to speak to me about your behavior and tell me how…how I shouldn't even call myself a Prefect if my house is…"

Penelope cut off, apparently at a loss for words to describe the atrocity that had occurred.

"Well that's rather silly of him, seeing that I am not you, and you are not me, and-"

Penelope held up her hands. "Snape's reported you to Dumbledore. We'll be seeing him right after breakfast. You'd better hope I-."

The curly headed girl broke off, engaging in warfare with her eggs, and Luna was left wondering at what she had done exactly. Professor Snape had told her to leave if her mind had not been into the potion. Had everyone gone mad? Do their words not mean anything at all?

She was frog-marched up the hallways by the Prefect who huffed and puffed all the way. Luna wished Penelope had been in Hufflepuff where the rest of that sort was. It was like being blindsided by a particularly prune colored train. They had reached a statue of a griffin, with ruby eyes and a false smile.

"Lemon Drops," Penelope spat out, with venom dripping off the Drops part which Luna thought was unnecessary as the word was still the same either way. Maybe Penelope was the Heir with that kind of hairy hissing.

The griffin sprung to life and they were admitted to a winding staircase, sliding its way to the sky. The Head Master should be at the very top, near the clouds. Dumbledore's head reminded her of clouds with all his white tuffs.

Inside there were portraits of headmasters of all sorts and sizes, most of them asleep. She hoped the Prefect would whisper.

Headmaster Dumbledore was seated behind his desk with hands making a triangle. About to summon a storm on the mountain top where drops of liquid gold and light will illuminate all the empty places and nooks and no monster shall step foot or claw or tail into the library! Or he was just in very, very deep thought. Luna smiled. Penelope cleared her throat nervously.

Azure eyes peered up at the pair, seeming to study them both. Luna had the sudden impression he could have peered right into her thoughts. Her smile lessened. She did not like that idea at all.

"Miss Lovegood, I'm assuming," the headmaster said kindly.

"Yes, the first year I've mentioned to you, sir," Penelope shot out. "Not only has her performance in classes been questionable, she-."

"That is enough, Miss Clearwater. I believe Miss Lovegood and I are capable of talking about this matter ourselves. And you have Charms right now, do you not?"

"E-yes, headmaster."

The wizened old man with clouds for hair mentioned for her to take a seat. His eyes now seemed like the blue you see under the tail of a dragon about to crush you. Luna sat down hurriedly, taking a glance around. Like a moth to a flame, she locked on floating orbs which danced around with messages she itched to uncover. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Would you care for a lemon drop?" he asked, holding out a bag full of yellow pearls.

Luna would have chanced it but the word lemon made her hesitate. Right now was the worst time for puckered lips.

"No thank you, but thank you," she answered back. Dumbledore looked distinctly amused and set the bag aside.

"I hope Miss Clearwater has made known the details about why I've called you here."

"No, sir, she had not made it very clear at all," Luna began, only to be distracted once more by a plumage of red feathers. A phoenix…from the fires and ash of lore. She gasped in delight, wondering if perhaps it could have been a phoenix feather she had plucked out of the decaying leaves. How fitting after seeing that Quietus in the forest….

"Miss Lovegood…Luna," Dumbledore called out and she snapped back at attention. "Even though Professor Snape mentioned your behavior in his class, that is not the reason you are here. I would have loved to see the look on his face myself."

The headmasterlaughed and she found it sounded like a deep ocean, with both good and bad inside, bad memories covered up with marble of goblin ore.

"Nevertheless, I trust you know not to test your luck now with Professor Snape or with any of your professors. You will be in their classes unless you are sick, and then you will be in the hospital wing.

Understood?"

Luna nodded quickly, sensing even more was to come.

"Now to the point, which is always the most important part…on the night our young mister Creevey was attacked, magic was performed in the corridors at half past one. Miss Clearwater stated that she has reason to believe you were not in your Common Room at that time."

Her breath caught in her throat and her hands tightened around the arms of the chair.

"Can you explain this to me?" Dumbledore questioned lightly.

"I was in the library. I didn't realize the time had gone by so quickly. I left and performed a memory spell as I was trying to keep the thoughts in my head."

She shook. This is the first time she had ever…why couldn't she tell him? About Ginny, about the hissing monster, about the grapes...She knew why.

He might give her that empty-eyed look and from him, she couldn't bear that look. She had no proof except for the hissing and that itself could have been from any manner of beast.

"Ah, I've often been a victim of misplaced thoughts myself. But, alas, that does not explain fully why you have been out of your common room several times past curfew. Miss Clearwater states that your dorm mates have told her that you haven't slept in your bed for weeks."

He knew. That she was lying. Not lying, withholding information. But he wouldn't believe her. Like everyone else. He would think her a liar either way or just loony.

"I-I'm afraid my dorm mates are a bit distant from me, sir. But at the beginning, I missed the password, so I couldn't get pass the knight and I didn't want to bother anyone. I was in the library mostly, thinking."

The headmaster stared at her without blinking and she was crumpling. She had to say. She had to!

"I-I didn't see anyone in the library, sir."

The carpet seemed to burn with the orange stained glass on the window. They were both caught in this unending, flame dance. He might toss the sword her way and it would burn her and burst forth with ropes to bind her, that snake towards her and hang her up for all to see and she would replace the Hogwart's bell.

"I did find that there were sounds in the corridors."

"What kind of sounds?" he questioned quickly.

"Sounds that you hear at night, only at night," she whispered and his burrow furrowed. "I think it was coming from the walls, sir. A hissing of air, or pipes, or something," she finished, red-faced. Not to mention devious deviations. But enough…This was all she could do for now.

"You saw no one out of bed besides yourself?"

"No, sir," Luna whispered. "Not a soul."

This was not lying because a soul itself was not what she saw. A person with a soul perhaps…

"You may go, Miss Lovegood." She thought she heard disappointment heavy in his voice…and no more Luna either. "Stay in your common room from now on."

She hurried out, feeling strangely worn down and rubbed raw. She hoped her face wasn't red.

 

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Professor Lockhart was quite like the color forget-me-not, Luna thought to herself, vague and a true blue forget me not one tends to forget.

He did have a very large smile; she preferred to measure how far it would go and then slide to the floor. His teeth were like Zonko's Snapping Jaws or chattering Ice Mice, and she kept her feet up, tucked under her in class…for the day will come when his teeth spring to life, fall to the floor clicking and snapping madly, and attack any unwary foot.

It was the week before Christmas vacation and Luna was in her last class of the day.

She had signed up to stay over vacation because her father would be extremely busy tying up as he called it 'loose ends'. He would come to Hogsmeade and come to fetch her for dinner three days before Christmas. For then, he reasoned, she could spend time with her friends during the holiday.

There was a problem though.

He had wanted to meet some of her friends, if they were staying as well. Luna had written back her second…or was it the third…revision of events. It burned in her memory, and she often was caught saying it out loud.

'Yes, that would be a lovely idea, Daddy. I've told them all about you and the paper, and they want to meet you.'

It was when she sent away the owl she realized she had done a very silly thing indeed.

It was just he had wanted so badly for her to have friends. His writing had practically screamed it at her, with the curves and the red ink and the sharp writing…the only person she could think of was Ginny. After all, Ginny was the one who had thought up the name for the paper in the first place.

Yet the small Gryffindor had always looked away when Luna tried to approach her. It was strange and rather hurt her feelings as they had talked about so much before, even angles and words. Had she offended her with her last, parting comment?

Luna was quite caught in the middle. She would have to seek out the red-head quickly before the end of the day. She was sure none of the other Ravenclaws would agree to meet her father. Especially after a week ago…

Luna had been out around the grounds in between classes, and another batch of older Ravenclaws had been nearby, talking with Hagrid about a strange shrinking lizard he had found, that even mimicked human speech! Luna had wanted to journey over but the idea of facing her house mates more than was necessary made her sit and observe them instead.

She thought about light on their faces, illuminating the dark looks they often had, and she wondered if the hissing would sound so bad in the day. Luna took out her wand and whispered "Reddiditum memoriam."

She was so deep in her listening that she didn't realize that the ground had become alive.

" 'hat in the name of?"

Luna was lifted off her feet by a huge hand and found herself twirling like a falling leaf.

The Ravenclaws were staring in horror as Hagrid held her by the back of her cloak. Luna looked down. Snakes were everywhere, in all colors of poisonous green and decaying brown and black, in mounds, making swirls in the snow, hissing and fighting each other to get closer to her. It looked like as if they were trying to form a stairway up to her. She quickly whispered an extremely silent version of 'Silencio'.

As it happened, Luna, in her search for the Heir, had begun to mimic people's steps, trying to remember the rhythm. Sometimes when she felt it was slipping away like water through her fingers, she would tap it out hurriedly. She began to ignore the looks. Let them look. This search was important! No one had matched

Ginny was her only hope, and then, she could isolate her so that she could clearly hear her footsteps. Yes, it was a good idea.

Luna left her last class with a renewed sense of purpose. She would find Ginny Weasley, if it was the last thing she did! She danced proudly through the halls, wondering at why she had missed such an opportunity! People paused to stare but she didn't notice.

She would find out what makes Ginny…erm, tick, was it?

And what would she say though?

She needed some words that would convince the girl to help her. Maybe she would begin with the credit to the paper. The wondrous word! And that her father really, really wanted to meet Ginny. A trip to Hogsmeade before third year, with permission of course, and they would be going with an adult.

Wondrous winter, wondrous day, she thought. She made her way up to the second floor, thinking about the library. She hadn't been back since the shape had appeared to her, laughing at her. This was the first time Luna ever thought of laughter in that way. So deep was she in her revelation about the shade and its effects that she was startled by a wailing coming from the bathroom.

"Why are you screaming at me? I haven't been in this bathroom before, since I've been here!"

"You nasty little girl! Cruel, lying girl! You said such heartless things to me! I know no one cared about moaning miserable Myrtle, but you-you are a heartless monster! YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU WERE GLAD I WAS DEAD, THAT THE TOILET WAS WHERE I BELONGED WITH-!"

Ginny Weasley came skidding out of the bathroom so fast her hair became a red blur like the feather she had found outside in the dead leaves.

"Ginny!" Luna called out in surprise, holding out her arms to stop the girl from falling.

The Gryffindor looked ill and held on to her arms tightly. Black purplish circles were under her eyes, the former brown turning to pools of mud almost, or just a mass of leaves with something hidden and moving under there. Her skin was more translucent than she last remembered. In her arms the veins showed through. Blue blood indeed…

"What's the matter? How can I help you?" Luna whispered. Ginny focused on her and jerked away.

"It's you," the girl muttered darkly…in a clipped beat. Luna blinked.

"Yes, I am me, and you are Ginny, and you look ill," she cleared up the situation, unlike Clearwater who never cleared anything and never drank water. "Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?"

A huge shriek burned through the walls.

"No, no, no, no more of that nonsense! I am not-ill," Ginny yelled. "I am not-like-…"

Luna was confused. What did Ginny mean by that? Perhaps her question would make Ginny answer, thus making her focus on something else. Or at least, make her stop looking at her like that, with those empty-muddied pools from the Queerditch Marsh.

"I was wondering-," Luna began in determination. Something crashed against a stall and the taps were being turned off and on, making it difficult of speak. She imagined squeaks becoming intertwined from the huge noise. Little Nettlets pouring out of the taps in the girl's bathroom… "If you'd-um-my father would like to meet you."

"Excuse me?" Ginny looked amazed. "What for?"

"Well, you thought up the name! And-my father would love for you to join us for dinner, I think three days before Christmas, and right before eight…well a quarter till at least, more than a fourth, I know."

"What are you on about?" Ginny glared at her. "Making things up to get people to-."

Luna felt her ears turning a slow red. Thank goodness her hair covered them like a trusty hat.

"I am not making it up, you said the word 'Quibbling', and it was a good word, and I told you about my father being a journalist."

A strange thing happened then. Ginny leaned against the wall, as if unable to support herself.

"When?..." she choked out, brokenly. "When did you speak to me?"

"I ran into you in the corridors. We were both locked out of our common rooms. And you helped me get back into mine, with that spell you taught me. Don't you remember?"

Ginny closed her eyes, her breathing becoming shallow and raspy. Luna was at a loss at what to do. Was Ginny thinking with her eyes closed? Why…there was nothing to be afraid of. Or did Ginny have a bigger fear than she did?

"You're making that up," Ginny finally whispered. "Everyone says that about you, even your own house mates. You heard what Myrtle was saying and you'd thought it would be funny to…"

Ginny pushed her aside, dashing down the hallway and out of sight. If only it was out of mind as well…Luna stood in the corridor for a long time, with her bag at her feet. Did she dream it up? Was she really mad?

"That was rather rude," she whispered to no one but herself and the things in the wall.

Luna cautiously opened the door, walking into a growing puddle of water. No Nettlets, but the taps were overfilling with an opaque water. She calmly shut off the taps, one by one. She noticed one didn't work at all and seemed lonely on its own. Luna placed her hand on it and noticed it was colder than the rest, after being unused for so long.

There was a slight whimpering in the third stall with half the door hanging off, splintered.

Inside was a hunched, small figure…but of a murky fog. Did one ever notice how white ghosts' eyes are? They were like eggs and still appeared solid even though the rest was all smoky oblivion. Eyes and the soul are one thing, after all, and something could always hatch out of the egg.

White, big eyes peered at her through milky spectacles.

"You are a ghost," Luna said.

"Oh, no, I hadn't noticed. WONDERED WHY I DIDN'T HAVE A BODY!"

"I haven't seen you in the Great Hall at the feasts. How come?" Luna questioned curiously.

She had made great friends out of all the ghosts, even the slightly morbid ones the other students couldn't see. There was one in the Ravenclaw common room she called Boy Blue and he was quite distressed, crying for someone to notice. Yet whenever she did approach, he would disappear.

"No one wants me, Miserable Myrtle, there. This place ruined me. I died in here. And no one cared then and no one cares now except to come make fun of me."

"I'm sure that's not true," Luna responded. "If you try and keep trying, someone will be kind. Though if it's so bad, why don't you leave?"

"I did leave once, for a whole year. I made Olive Hornby's life a living hell. She always teased me terribly. I spoke to the Prefects about it oh so many times. There was this one who was always nice to me, but I think he hated me in the end too, always telling me what to do and taking away points! Well, didn't I tell him a thing or two! Oh, and Olive, oh, did I make her cry! She filed a suit to the Ministry and I got sent back to my toilet."

"Oh," Luna muttered politely. "May I ask you another question? Oh, I just did. Perhaps you might answer a question after this one."

Myrtle was obviously pleased with all this attention that didn't include throwing wads of gum at her to see if it would stick at all. She nodded.

"What is it like to die?"

"OHHHH…it is like feeling…a great breath come out of you, and then you can see everything for a moment. I saw my own body below me and someone running out. I should have looked closer at them, I know, but I had never seen myself dead. How often do you see that?"

Myrtle looked at Luna smugly, as if daring her to disagree.

"You are free for a moment and then something pulls on you, tugs a bit. Well, I don't like being pulled nor did I want to leave my body there. All I could think was 'Oh, I'm dead, murdered, killed to death, in here forever, no one will come and look, who did it, who, I can't live anymore, feel anymore'… Even if you can see, you can't feel much. Then I thought about those big, yellow eyes and I feel even further back until I was…as I am. No more tug. No more pull."

Myrtle quieted down, thoughtful. "You know, I've always wanted to find that person and haunt him to the day he died…drive him mad. But I did not know who to haunt, so I made do with Olive."

"Him?"

"Oh, yes. It was a boy. I heard a boy's voice whispering something quite strange and came out to tell him off for being in the girl's toilet. Then again, I just remember these eyes before the Great Final Breath and my mind just almost…everything was crumbling and I could hear it crumbling! Then a great cold sweeping over me. It didn't hurt, you know."

"Good," Luna whispered, thinking about her own loss. "Do you think…if you were to feel that tug again, you would go? If you wanted it to come back, wished hard enough, I think it would."

"Absolutely not! I loathe being pushed around, I just told you! Better off here than being tugged on."

Luna nodded, feeling her own tug of pity.

"You know, Ginny's not that bad. She's just ill, I think."

Myrtle looked distinctly put off, eyes glowing darkly. Her whole round face turned into a grimace.

"HOW CAN YOU TAKE UP FOR HER? You can't imagine… She's here at night to tell me the cruelest things, like I was worthless when I was alive, an ugly blemish. She even told me about my family, that she had found out how they died and that they were wiped away as well, purged like the-."

Luna snapped her head up, gaping. "She used that word? That exact word? Oh! Oh, that means more than anything, more than a thousand guesses. That's a piece of the Heir, right there!"

She darted out, leaving the disgruntled ghost behind, then darted back in.

"If Ginny comes back, you tell me. Tell me when and what she says, how she says it, how many ways she says it, with shine or not."

Then Luna was gone. Myrtle shook her head, in dismay.

"And I thought…she was one of the normal ones."

However, Luna's great ideas were put on hold for two things. She had the habit of signing up for everything, just in case she missed something.

As she ran by the Great Hall, she noticed that she had signed up for the Dueling Club, which was at eight pm that very night. An excuse to be out at night, out of the stuffy common room, and perhaps even a brief trip outside, to see the night sky…perfect for her mood that Ginny had put a ragged blanket on…

Luna wandered into the Great Hall to see a mass of hissing snakes. Well, Slytherins. She listened to them long enough, talking in sibilant whispers about Mudbloods and Locked Hearts, if she heard them right. She had gasped at that statement, making a few serpents turn around. How sad it was to have a Locked Heart.

She repeated the same thing to them, offering her sympathy. The majority just stared at her, tense as if expecting a trick. That look was always on a Slytherin's face, she noted. A blonde boy with cold grey eyes opened his mouth to say something back. Perhaps he would agree. Luna waited expectantly.

Then he locked on to a trio coming in through the main doors, and she turned to see the boy who fell off his broom coming into the room. The stormy boy signaled two bigger Slytherins with a distinct yet subtle dip of his they were off and Luna followed.

It was great fun.

She imagined that they were all serpents sliding through the bodies of students that could be mistaken for grass. Which made her think of the hissing from before and she mimicked the pattern once more. She had memorized every meter of the sound, even the tone. It would have been even better if she had added the menacing air.

She grabbed onto the Slytherin's cloak in front of her so she would not to lose him in the growing crowd all the while laughing at the new game she had discovered. The biggest brown-headed boy with a face of a crab and hair like quills looked back at her then quickly averted his eyes, as if unsure of what to do. She stood by him, rather than stand by the Ravenclaws.

"So do you often follow him?" she motioned to the smaller wispy boy.

His small eyes looked confused and he opened his mouth uncertainly.

"Erm-yeah."

"Do you ever take turns and let him follow you? It might be a nice change once and awhile. Routine is in a rut, you know."

He was spared from answering as a purple blaze of wings and gold darted onto the stage full of crescent moons. At first Luna thought it was an overgrown Augury, especially with that screeching noise, but alas, it was Professor Lockhart.

Luna wished she could wave her cloak around like that and get away with it. Actually, she had tried it and did a much better job in her opinion. It just didn't go over as well as expected. She felt the cloth of the Slytherin's robe and found it to be a lot nicer than hers.

"You have a very nice woven seal on these robes. Aren't school robes supposed to be standard issue?"

He stared straight ahead.

"Let me see the other side, mine's threaded you see," Luna continued onward, trying to pull the piece she held closer. The boy looked extremely nervous though she had no idea why. A pale head peeked around the stout divider to glare at her.

She instead looked the other way, behind the tall Atlas, to see him better…he was at a bad angle anyway. He looked like an idea, like Ginny had looked that night. Someone who perhaps had over-thought something… Silvery hair was more for the night yet in the day it looked like a mere fragment of a color half finished and the artist was afraid to complete it. How interesting…an incomplete boy.

They played that game for awhile as the quill head grew more and more uneasy…until the plumed Augury fellow was blown back wards, smoking slightly. The Slytherins laughed and not the nice kind. It was that double-edge sword once more.

She poked the crabby boy in the ribs.

"That's very rude. Try putting yourself in his shoes and see if you laugh."

The Slytherin quieted down. Then she spotted Snape swooping down over his prey. She hid behind the green-robed boy, the only person Snape might not look to devour. He let out a muffled protest.

"Your Head of House is quite batty. I don't want him looking at me with that ill of will."

His eyebrows shot up and it seemed as if he agreed. Lockhart was able to get to his feet and Luna spied a few burns on his robes, made by the force where he slid on the wooden stage. She was surprised a fire hadn't been started.

"Well, there you have it. That was a Disarming Charm-…"

Where did his hat go?

It was quite lovely with its swirls, perhaps it took off, spinning right out of the Great Hall.

She bent down to check under the feet of the nearest students. Nope, nothing. It might just be shy after being on that head…She kept at it until she heard Lockhart announced that they were to be divided up into pairs. Luna looked at her Slytherin friend but it seemed he had disappeared while she was on her search.

Pity that…he didn't seem so terribly nasty. Slytherins are often described as very nasty and quite terrible. But description pale in comparison to facts, Luna had discovered, making them all the more factual and with a surprise!

But now there was a question of a dueling partner. Everyone was rushing about, trying to find someone bearable before the misguided judgments of Snape and Lockhart reached them…or to settle a few scores. A terrible pity, Luna thought. Scores are never settled. They can divide and multiply. She wondered if she should have come at all. She could have taught herself.

"Well, well, isn't this a surprise? St. Mungo's let you out for good behavior."

Luna turned to see Eliza Wordsworth standing behind her with a smirk in place.

"What surprise? I must have missed it. Though I do like surprises," Luna answered.

She had long ago decided that Eliza was fond of saying meaningless things that only Eliza understood. She found it best to humor such people.

Eliza scowled. "You think you're so clever, Lovegood? Let's find out, shall we?"

It was when Eliza stood backed away and squared off directly across from her that Luna realized she had been challenged to a duel. The girl's eyes were cold and calculating with more than an air of debris. Focused to a horrific point with needles in her eyes.

Goodness, Luna thought, it did not good to focus so. You'll lose yourself. She did not want to duel with a lost girl.

Before she could decline, she found that Snape overshadowed them both with Lockhart twittering around the edges of their exclusive triangle.

"Aren't you two girls in the same house?" Lockhart asked, which was a bit off since they both had on their house color. "I've always said that dueling a member from another house would be a better learning ex-."

"No, no," Snape muttered, looking at Eliza's murderous expression. "This match is just fine."

Luna had a sinking feeling. She had discovered that when Snape said something was good, it was usually a dark night ahead. She wished it would rain his face away. But then that would be a mess.

Bother this….what spells were good for a duel? It depends on your design. She didn't want to blast Eliza with a Stunning Spell or hex. It seemed slightly antagonistic in her view.

That spell Ginny had mentioned…worked on passwords. It dissected the very core of the magic. First off, even if she was hit, she would see the pure magic of the spell and it probably would be diluted. She wondered if this spell had been attempted on a curse and/or hex.

It would make a marvelous experiment, she decided.

"Loony," Eliza hissed. "Draw your wand already."

She tried to free her wand from her robes, resolved to place it where she could reach it easier next time. Her head was where she could see what was happening, so next time, the wand would go behind the ear.

"Bow to your opponent."

Bow down already…isn't that when you lose? Luna kneeled and this caused a stir from those nearest the pair. Eliza looked absolutely enraged. Luna noted that she did not follow directions. She finally freed her wand when she was thrown down by a Jelly-Leg Jinx.

She laughed loudly at the randomness of sitting down in the middle of the Great Hall.

Sometimes she had been very tempted but felt that would be not well received. Now she didn't even need an excuse. She looked up at the enchanted ceiling and lay down on the floor, watching.

The night sky was very foggy tonight, not a star in sight. Were ghost made of fog? Are the throes of death the night of the life or merely a thunderbolt that caused a storm in its path? Rain unable to fall because you couldn't cry as a ghost, not really, so pent up rain drops cause foggy shades…she noticed the floor had circles in it.

If you looked, you could see a radiating circle. A magic circle, she was sure, and the stars orbited around it perhaps, drawn downward into the circle so the world would not be splinched.

Hogwarts is a very important place after all. If you moved the circle, would you divide the very sky? She supposed she shouldn't try it.

Snape passed by numerous times without performing the counter-curse, one time stepping on her hair and in turn knocking her radish earring into her face. Professor Snape must have bad vision.

Lockhart rushed up after a bit but Snape beat him to it at the end.

Luna smiled to herself. Snape was a bit batty; bats weren't bad though. She stretched her arms for a minute, wondering at what was next. Eliza pointed her wand at Luna eagerly, and Luna was confused as the others had not gotten into the dueling position again.

"Rictusempra," Eliza hissed under her breath.

Luna waited until it half filled her vision then hissed back (better in her opinion as she was well versed in hissing by now), "Abscido absconditum," complete with a twirl.

It hit the spell which then split right down the center, carved to perfection.

The middle was a ball of energy, swirling slightly with the motion of rotation that all useful things have, a blue flame in the very center, flapping like a very small bird. The rest, the bulk of it, shattered into drops of poured gold and warmed the cold stone, as the spell shed its skin. She was hit by the energy of the spell yet it did nothing to harm her. It simply seemed to fade or go into her, and it warmed her.

It was pure magic. Magic in its basic element is not dark or light.

Eliza dropped her wand in shock. It clattered in a startling silent room. Snape and Lockhart had paired up The Boy of Idea with The Boy Who Lived. Interesting match up…Luna moved closer, forgetting about the wordless Wordsworth.

Lockhart was performing some difficult spell which included the wand spinning of its own accord. Luna would try that some time. If it blocked harmful spells by spinning them away, then that was something worth knowing. A Levitated Spinning Wand that knocked back any manner of dangerous, devious spell into a fan of swirls and bangs. She would have to improve his style, as the wand didn't Levitate for very long.

"Serpensortia!"

Harry Potter was eye to eye with a very large snake, with poisonous scales, glistening like the Quietus's skin. It meant Death in pure form and being. Its existence was for harm, so it did not exist. Luna held her breath and hoped. Hoped The Boy would beat Death, like he had before.

Snape flew forward though not as fast as he could have. Didn't he realize what this thing was for!

"I'll take care of it for you," he drawled.

"Allow me," and the next thing Luna knew was the No-Life thing was flying in the air, and they were now in a game of chance. It smacked the second wheel of the circle and dove toward the boy on stone thirteen, becoming a shadow across the floor. Unlucky.

Then the hissing filled empty space of the room and they were all drowning because there was no room.

Luna knew the difference.

The accent was off, the meters were blotched. Fear, fear in the sound. Concern like a boat bobbing, about to be swept under, and skipping beats. No hurtful intentions. No shine. Raw and unpracticed like a bad Swish and Flick.

Harry was running towards the snake, waving his arms to direct it away. Yet the snake was drowning too and its own purpose was lost. It bobbed before the Boy, awaiting to exist again.

Then it was nothing as Snape finally dispersed it into the land of Poppies.

Harry Potter was rushed away by his friends, who were always by his side, flanking him as if they were blocking him from the rest of them. Protecting him.

Luna felt alone for a moment, with empty spaces in a sea of faces.

Quite alone…really.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The news that Harry Potter was a Parselmouth cleared up any cobwebs about him being the Heir of Slytherin.

Luna had fought to the bitter end, explaining endlessly to people who would not come out of their cave to see the light. An endless end…was what this was and it brought her spirits down.

"Listen, he was waving the snake away, away with his arms. Couldn't you hear how worried he was about the Hufflepuff?"

Edgecombe gaped at her.

"You…you utter loon…he was hissing! Hissing at the snake, chasing the thing towards the Muggle-born Hufflepuff."

"It was a bad lot of chance. He was on the thirteenth stone, his own fault. Harry didn't make him stand there. The snake landed by him, it wasn't chased towards him. Anyone with any eyes can see that," Luna stated.

Then Justin Finch-Fletchley was attacked the day after.

…It was war. This Heir had gone too far, using Harry's public hissing for an attack. How cheap…an utterly rude and decidedly cowardly way of doing things.

"What could Petrify a ghost?" Cho Chang muttered nervously to Micheal Corner at the table during a tense lunch.

What indeed…what could dry up a ghost? Solidify fear of death, tears unshed, someone who had resisted the Tug? Something immensely powerful.

She spent a lot of time outside her common room. Needless to say, it was emptied out with only a few remaining Ravenclaws left. There had been a mad dash to return home for the holidays.

Luna didn't know why she didn't go home after all that had happened. Her father was going to be busy. Then…she felt she would be betraying someone if she left. Who, she did not know. She was meant to stay. The grapes had meant 'Stay'.

Whoever had been in the library with that tone was the Heir of Slytherin and had been a few spaces away from where she had stood. If she had been smart, she would have cursed the shape when she had spotted it. No matter how much she hated it, her mind would keep turning towards Ginny Weasley. Had she been at the dueling club? Did it matter, since the whole school knew of what had happened?

How to prove it was the main question. Luna did not know for sure yet what course of action to take.

There was a snow storm like she had never seen before during this holiday. It made a plea for silence and the world outside Hogwarts was blank, unassuming, and a memory of unshed grief. Every howl against the window panes burnt her as she sat up at night to listen. Somewhere someone screamed for an end to this senselessness…but the snow was a place for wolves as well. You could see their tracks.

Luna's Quietus flew above the treetops, waiting.

Sometimes…she felt she was not alone.

Her things would be rearranged, if she happened to sleep at night in the window seat.

Every time…she had counted. Her Prophets had disappeared completely where she had circled the pattern with red ink. But nothing else had been taken, just moved. Her marbles were not in order and her hats were placed in the most hard to reach places, the furry one ruined as if it got in the way of a Shredding Hex. She found pages of her notes, complete with her sketches of the Rolling-Land Hippocampus, tossed in the common room fire.

Then the more subtle touches of putting some of her clothes among the torches that hung from the ceiling. It was only by chance that she found her things at all this time. A lone sock had fallen on her head as she had been frantically searching the entire Ravenclaw dormitory.

At first, she assumed her house mates had jinxed her things before leaving, so they would not feel so bad that she had them. Yet when she stayed awake the whole night and day, none of her socks would wiggle away by themselves and they didn't appear to dislike her so as to fly of her feet.

And her mother's picture was always placed away from any damage, almost turned to an angle where the picture couldn't see the harm about to be done. It began to be a strange sort of ritual and Luna would complete it by placing the picture back in its proper spot…only to be moved again.

Once she considered jinxing her property. Then the prankster would be cursed and exposed. The only thing that came of this approach was that she forgot she had jinxed her things.

The whole day before her father came, she spent looking for the Counter-Jinx. Her hair stood up with blue sparks showering down, making it hard to see, and it was a hard to pronounce the Counter-Jinx with her teeth chattering so.

Professor Flitwick walked with her down to the Main Hall, politely not looking at her hair that much. Luna had hastily stuffed her remaining hat on before the professor had arrived.

The winking newt would not have been her first choice. It rather made the frizzle-frazzled hair more prominent as it clung to her head. Luna was quite morose. She had wanted to look nice for her father, as if she had no worries.

The small wizard noticed her unusual gloom and made small talk about her investigations with the Hippocampus.

"I have-had sketches of the tracks. I was going to make molds but then we were not allowed out of the castle for that long of time. Then it rained."

"I'm sure something will turn up again," Professor Flitwick said kindly. He paused, thinking through something. Luna could almost see the sparks going off in his head. "How are you faring with your house mates?"

Luna felt her remaining good mood plummet straight down to wherever the Giant Squid lurked. Would Flitwick tell her father about her…her not being able to…'get along'?

"Oh, beyond what I expected, actually. Thank you for asking," Luna said quickly. Then Luna spotted the blondish-grey haired man standing at the foot of the stairs, looking around at the moving tapestries with a grand smile...only his smile.

She had never run faster in her life.

Mr. Lovegood laughed in surprise as his daughter flew into his arms.

"I've missed you so much, Daddy," Luna whispered, not realizing how much so until that moment. Mr. Lovegood hugged her tightly.

"I've missed you too," he responded warmly. He tapped her hat playfully. "Ah, now, is this really in tune to the Christmas spirit?"

He took something red and white out of his winter cloak. Luna gasped. It was a red hat with a white tuff on top. She took it eagerly, feeling the fuzz lightly. It was in the shape of a lovely triangle, the basis of every good magic summoning charm.

"Does it summon snow?" she asked.

Mr. Lovegood winked. "Who knows? It's worth a try."

He took the newt off her head, smoothed down her hair, and placed the cap snugly around her ears. Professor Flitwick introduced himself and shook Mr. Lovegood's hand.

Her father looked around expectantly, his smile fading a little.

"I thought some friends of yours were joining us, Lunette," he said with an unasked question.

Luna saw Professor Flitwick open his mouth before she could open hers, and it seemed all was lost. Her father would know she was a loony and a friendless one at that.

"Ah, good, you haven't left yet," someone called to them. "I was afraid I had missed you."

Luna was confused for a moment. How was it good they hadn't left before it started snowing again, if it did, and maybe it would with this hat? And who would be…Luna felt almost bodiless as if she had died and could see everything.

Ginny Weasley was walking towards them quickly, smiling as if she hadn't a worry in the world.


	4. Moths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, this was written before Luna's father was given a first name in the canon. I could change it but ...ehhh. I decided not to! Apparently. 
> 
> Thanks to Mistress Siana for the beta read

When a butterfly flaps its wings, there is a tornado half way across the world.

Ginny Weasley continued on her course steadily, following a pattern that had already been charted. Luna felt she was in the center of a large web and she froze, trying not to attract a certain spider's attention.

She could taste grapes. Too much red at once, Luna thought. She wouldn't have been surprised if Ginny's eyes had suddenly filled with the color. Luna noticed Ginny's scarf had been inverted, and it silvered into a mane of ash, like a sphinx has. A sliver of grey littered it like dust off a forgotten book in the library where something was covered up for a very long time and kept secret.

Ginny held out her hand towards Mr. Lovegood with a smile that was more a simile for something just out of Luna's reach. Like dash here, dash there, dot, and uncover the code if you can.

Hogwarts' clock had teeth underneath with a similar fit and time's flying once more, in sparrows instead of seconds. Though seconds were conductors of the train in the tunnel, sparrows were piercing. Not a good change.

Not one bit, even though the teeth fit.

And she did feel bitten.

"You're one of Luna's friends?"

"Luna talks about you all the time, sir" she was saying, with that simile tightly in place. "I've been looking forward to finally meeting you…saving up for it all week."

At his questioning look, Ginny motioned to her coin purse in her bag.

"Oh, everything is on me," Artemus stated firmly, patting his daughter's shoulder lightly. "I insist."

Luna noticed Ginny watching this motion out of the corner of her eye. Then the Gryffindor focused on her hat. Luna's grip on the tuff tightened.

"Is it alright with the Headmaster if Miss Weasley joins us, Professor?" Mr. Lovegood asked jovially.

Professor Flitwick, who Luna had trusted to profess a disagreement against this addition to their group (if two could be a group), nodded instead, seeming pleased.

"I'll inform Professor McGonagall about your absence," he squeaked out at Ginny and beamed at Luna. "Let me walk you to the gates."

But Luna didn't want to be walked. Not with Ginny. Most of all she didn't want Ginny to be near her father. Ginny could be the Heir, the one that made the fear in the atmosphere. Luna wondered what she was the Heir of. Of Salazar Slytherin's blood that was diluted by now?

Was she Ginny's enemy? Isthat why Ginny was here now? She didn't want to be someone's enemy. "-wrong?"

Luna looked to see Ginny standing in front of her. She was so caught that she almost spoke out, "I can't. You should know I won't make a good foe." Although they were toe to toe, head to head, Luna felt smaller.

She wouldn't because she couldn't give Ginny a piece of herself. She'd rather stay together, thank you very much. Perhaps Ginny was looking for power over her, but what was power over an hour?

"I think you know," she said. Her father and the Professor who didn't profess stood at the door, talking and waiting for them. They hadn't noticed anything amiss.

"Do I? …Isn't this what you wanted?" Ginny motioned with her head towards the door. "For your father to approve of you?"

"That's not what…" Luna paused.

"Come on, you two. The night's not getting any younger," her father called. No, Luna thought, the nights just get older with wrinkles that hide what you need to see, especially now. She feared that the moon might disappear within the inky blackness.

With her grip still on her hat, Luna walked calmly towards her father. Fear in this case…would hurt more than help. She just had to be very careful to watch her step, without moving a pawn. To make a point she hoped was sharp enough, she moved to the left of Ginny, imaging herself to be a knight because it gave her hope but besides that…she didn't want to be antagonistic.

Her father and the Professor walked steadily before them, as through they were repelled by the mere force of Ginny's presence. For the Gryffindor's steps matched up with hers.

"I must have misunderstood your request," Ginny said in a matter-of-fact voice. "Strange…I usually am not far off the mark. And it's nothing to be embarrassed about, you know."

"What do you mean,'it'? she questioned, looking for the key to Ginny's behavior. Knowing was better than being lost in a snow storm.

Luna tried to think and not let her feelings blind her.

"This little mendacity, of course," Ginny answered, not looking at her and leaving the impression she had already predetermined her reaction. "Most people hide behind them. Some live behind them. It was a bit impulsive of me to expect anything different from you, but it is quite natural."

"I…am not a liar," she said firmly. "At least…" She paused, not wanting to lie now and make it a truth. "I don't think I am."

"Ah, but that's my point," Ginny's eyes met hers once more. "There is no question that your house mates think you are one. Yet, right now, this is a lie of its own…and look. Your father accepts it, does not question it…neither does your Head of House though we can assume he is familiar with his students. It is obvious to the both of them that I am from another house and have a less than likely chance to be a close friend of yours. So…what does this behavior tell us?"

Luna tried to work through it. She had to be fast on her feet to avoid being sucked under the mat of leaves or struck by the snake underneath them

"It's the fait accompli of the world," Ginny muttered, with an unflappable half-moon smile, "The majority doesn't want the truth. They ask for it but give it to them and they find that they prefer the lie. In fact, they would go to any lengths to preserve it. What do you think war is?"

The red-head chuckled slightly at Luna's stunned expression.

"Perhaps I over-spoke my peace… I mean to say the highest value is consistency. Truth and lies are ways the average person uses to keep their little lives safe. Do something unexpected and no one will challenge you. They wouldn't know what to do with themselves."

"No," Luna broke out, appalled. "You can't let yourself believe that!"

If she agreed, her ideal would be lost and buried, and she would be the pallbearer for its burial. If she doubted, then it would fade away. "If you live a lie, it will live you. There will be no truth or lies because there wouldn't be a difference anymore."

Ginny stared at her, apparently caught out of her territory.

Luna wondered if she should have kept silent, for noise can frighten monsters. Then she was ashamed and mentally burned the thought to ashes, hoping it wouldn't rise again. No matter what, Ginny was a person too.

"I suppose someone like you would claim there is a line between the truth and a lie?" Ginny asked calmly, patiently, though Luna could tell that was the worse for wear than her casual voice or tunnel voice. "My truth may seem like a lie to you. But your truth is someone else's lie …Surely, a clever Ravenclaw like you can understand."

Snow was falling swiftly now, as to cool down the heat of Ginny's red. The path took on a convoluted form that matched Luna's mind right now. Suddenly this was much, much more than just a conversation.

It seemed as if her father and her teacher were worlds away.

"I see what you are saying. I hear it as well, but I see it too. You're right. It is just your right and you hold it tighter than my right. But I know that my right isn't everything. The truth is too big for one person…if they don't believe in it. We all are far from the truth but it could be that you can be closer than someone else. You have to believe in truth and strive for it, even if you see past yourself. Then it won't be so big and shapeless. We'll never reach it but it's the attempt that counts."

A shadow darted across them both, much darker than the night, and Luna saw that her Quietus had flown over them, supposedly into a more preferable part of the forest. Perhaps to a place where only a Quietus can go…

While the youngest Weasley watched its progress, she smirked.

"You sound like a Hufflepuff," Ginny informed her, wrinkling her nose in disdain and crossing her arms.

Her freckles seemed like dots that scattered into a secret message but Luna couldn't read that.

"I do?" Luna questioned in doubt. She hadn't huffed and puffed, but really that wasn't what was bothering her. Although she loved ideas, she didn't want to become an idea or a dirge of past words.

"To me, hiding behind a mere attempt is mindless. You fall short of your goal and cling to…a lie," Ginny smiled, and Luna got the impression that Ginny had relaxed into following the track of things. It seemed Luna had lost her point.

"Either you succeed or you fail. It is the weak willed who let the word 'attempt' come out of their mouths. Don't tell me…" Ginny gasped in mock surprise. "You don't believe in failure. Perhaps you have never known it because you don't have an ounce of ambition in you."

Luna stopped, as if she was slapped.

"You can know ideas, Ginny," Luna said evenly. "But you can't know an individual who is more than just words and have hidden places even they don't know about. You are so far from the truth that it is an untruth. Not a lie. A misstep…"

"So sorry," Ginny replied, moving back on the balls of her feet in an action that conveyed utter ease. "I'm just going by the sorting. You might remember that hat that could delve into you…they say Gryffindor made it but if you consider the very nature of the item, it could be a myth. Not a lie. A myth." Ginny chuckled and placed her hands in her real true blue pockets. The Thorn wavered a bit.

"Give it some thought. You like to attempt the process of thinking, don't you? What separates…let's say Ravenclaw and Slytherin, for instance? Thought but no ambition is a Ravenclaw. They repeat a great many verses and facts from books they believe no one else has seen. Occasionally there will be one of you creative enough to think of something for yourselves but in the end it's all theory. No goals and no results…"

"Then I think…that ambition doesn't suit Slytherin."

Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"This should be interesting," she commented back, and Luna was unsure whether she was talking to herself, someone else behind them or in front of them, if her father could hear after all, or merely replying.

Luna burned forth for the first time in her life.

"A Slytherin can't wear ambition well. It should be aspiration. Asp for snake and a lot of ire. You can hear the sound of being eaten away. Ration for a certain amount. A result can be the end. Thoughts never end. To me, that is ambition."

Slytherins wouldn't wear it well, she thought. They'd get it wrinkled beyond recognition, stained by marks that will never come off. She was sure if you cling to the earth, you were sure to get dirty. Especially on your belly.

As Luna fought for her own control, she saw that Ginny was undergoing a similar chasing of the Snitch herself. A Snitch that had just told something unpleasant to the ear…

Was this what the Truth was? Thousands of Snitches darting by with golden promises yet gone before you could snatch it…

Ginny seemed to be in more than a match. She seemed to be at war.

The red-head's gaze was burning bright and the mouth twitched. Eyes had the most power of all.

"To each his own," Ginny replied lightly, with a curious blazing sound of blasé. It was almost a tired sound.

"What a quaint, little speech. You have this most ingenuous way about you, Luna, even for a first year. All the better…and here I was, afraid I was going to have a boring time."

Luna relaxed a bit. She hadn't meant for herself or her thoughts to be covered in gems and she was glad that Ginny got half of her point at least.

What was 'this'? Ginny shrugged again, as if removing a scratchy article of clothing.

"It's really the end that matters," she whispered when Luna was not quite besides her and Luna instinctively knew that those words were Ginny's own truth.

"How are your brothers?" she asked. "Are they having a good holiday?"

"You know the type…they are easily amused," Ginny answered without interest, her answer punctuated by the crunching of the snow underneath her boots. "I suppose they'll resort to any means to pass the time. That lot misses the most obvious of things…You saw it, didn't you?"

It was slipped in like such an afterthought that Luna was caught in the undertow or more like the undertoad. She thought back. She saw the path and the out of place stone that looked like a new creature had burrowed into it.

"The Quietus…the horse with holes in its wings. Yes, I did see, if that's what you saw."

"Qui-It's a Thestral, dear," Ginny answered with slightly slippery tone. Luna imagined she was trying to drop a weight with it but Luna really didn't care. The weight had already been dropped as far as she was concerned. And she was concerned. Her name was better for the creature.

"No, it's a Quietus. No one hears it and no one sees it. Well, except us, I guess. I wonder why."

"You mean you—you didn't try to find out what it was?" Ginny seemed offended. "You can see it because you have seen death," the red-head answered without an inflection of the voice.

Could death change your sight? Is that what Ginny was saying? It could burn your irises into lens that could see more…could it change something inside of you?

"I'm assuming…" Ginny continued, studying her in that way of hers…out of the corner of her eyes. "…it was your mother's death. That's why she's not here with your father now for the holiday. That's why his opinion means so much to you. That's why you asked me to come with you tonight. So he won't have to cope with another burden."

"Yes," Luna muttered. "You're on the mark."

Perhaps Ginny did know more about sparrows than Luna.

"I usually am."

"Who did you see die?" Luna asked. "Your mother?"

For Luna had noticed Ginny's thoughts had been drawn to death of a mother before any other person. It made sense, how the thoughts had found the truth, but the path had still been too broad to be as sure as Ginny sounded. There were too many will-o-the-wisps to be led safely out of the forest of possibilities.

Ginny's complacency vanished.

"No," she responded instantly, in such a tone of a haunted place that Luna didn't question her further.

Luna Lovegood did feel something pass between them though. Also she had a small hope. She knew Ginny Weasley a bit better now. She had knowledge to now climb the ledge and not fall.

For she decided it was not worth it.

No matter what happens, whether I am with a friend or an enemy, Luna told herself. I will learn from this experience. I will take it and grow and know. It won't be her experience. It will be mine.

They walked in silence until they reached the gates. Professor Flitwick wished them a good time, patting Luna's arm brightly like a silent 'Well done'.

Silent night, Luna thought. For all that was said, there was more left unsaid. And it wasn't over yet.

Luna's father ushered them through the entry with a wave of his hand.

Professor Flitwick made his solitary way back to the castle, his mind wandering back to his student's eyes. He had never seen Luna Lovegood's usually dreamy eyes so focused before and he wondered what had brought about this wonderful change.

There were too many Ginnys in the world.

The minute they walked out of the gates Ginny's tone evolved into a bouncy creature, full of light and happy thoughts. Quite the opposite of the girl who had walked with her to the gates. It was as if Ginny had shed her skin after tasting a bit of every personality she could employ. Luna was astounded.

How many masks did this girl have in her possession? Then Luna gasped silently to herself. This girl reminded her of a snake, hiding under leaves and darting its head out to lash out at unsuspecting ankles because it didn't have ankles of its own. Asp indeed!

Or maybe not even that…maybe that was too much of a sense for what she had seen.

They walked almost head to head, barring her way. It appeared that somehow they had become fused at the hip and it would be a messy business cutting them apart…

"How long have you and Luna known one another?" Mr. Lovegood asked eagerly.

"I first knew of her since the train, but we really didn't meet then. We didn't have much time to talk. It was in library where I truly met her. She was engrossed in a book that I wanted to borrow, and she loaned it to me. I don't have much time to read for enjoyment lately but I think I'll have more time after I get into a routine."

"Have you enjoyed your year so far?"

"Oh, immensely. But I can safely say that Luna's made it a lot more enjoyable than it would have been."

Her father had a bounce in his step. Luna wondered if her foot had a mind of its own…for it desperately wanted to trip Ginny.

"I remember my first year at Hogwarts," her father said fondly, his tone lighter than she had heard in ages.

"My friends and I…well, we were a bit of trouble-makers, actually. Best years of my life. I won't tell you everything we did. I don't want to be a bad influence for you girls," he finished laughing and actually seeming to be back in the best years of his life…which he hadn't told her about himself. Luna realized this suddenly and it caused a hiatus in her thoughts, a high one at that.

"Gryffindor, right?" Ginny was asking without really asking…

It was near Christmas that she had discovered her father's house, but she thought she knew before she knew. She didn't remember…and that made her sad but…she didn't remember why her mother said it. She wanted to say trials, secrets under dining room floors, and the like.

Her father had wanted something done to fix it.

'That's the Gryffindor in you, dear.' From then on, Gryffindor was the fixer…for Luna.

Her father had laughed and said he supposed it was. From behind her book, her mother's eyes peered over the rim. 'Just don't do anything too brash this time, Artemus.'

Gryffindor the defender, findor of Causes and brash gold…Luna preferred thoughts but a part of her had always loved the brash.

"Why yes, red and gold were my old colors! What gave it away?"

There were lights everywhere, fairies she imagined lighting the way. Christmas carols became the wind, even though there was no song. Hogsmeade welcomed them but Luna felt no sincerity of it. The windows reflected people who were not involved with what was taking place in Hogwarts or now. The snow was the only credible sound she could trust.

"Pranks are the trademarks of Gryffindor. All my good friends in Gryffindor can't stand being unnoticed. What better way than a good show? I mean, as long as everyone's laughing and it's all in good fun."

"We do keep things from getting boring around the old castle, don't we?" Mr. Lovegood chuckled.

Yet Luna heard Ginny's real answer sliding underneath her tone and she could literally hear a resounding 'no results'. Luna gritted her teeth at the implication of a good show. It was as if the whole House was being cheapened into garnish before her very eyes.

She had had picture books that made the animals in the book come alive in the pages then a miniature version would pop out and prance around the palm of your hand until it melted into magic words and dust. You could tell…it didn't belong in your hand. It was rough around the edges, blurry, straining against the fabric that you were made of, and you would have the slight thrill that perhaps it would become a part.

Her father waved at someone and squeezed within the billowing crowd, becoming one with the mass. She struggled to hear him over the battering banter.

Ginny made to follow him, eying the rest of the inhabitants of this place of threes with scaling eyes. She's making marks on everyone there, Luna thought.

This time Luna did step on Ginny's cloak, seized by a sudden impulse to stop her from getting between her and her father again. She was strangely relieved when she heard the spurting sound of a hitch in progress, the tightening of the fibers as it stretched then became tauntingly taut.

Ginny grabbed at the cloak in surprise, spurting herself and coming up for air as it was... the currents…instinct she had never had to use was sharpening and readied to make a point. The whole thing, even this act tonight, had a purpose she was forging in that fiery head. Forgers forget foibles. Moreover, they won't allow for them.

"Wait right here. I'll get us a table."

Her father had become one with the masses.

And missed a most spectacular sight. Luna wished she could have been a spectator.

When Ginny's cloak caught under her foot, Ginny herself lurched forward.

The book Luna had originally believed to be marked by the Thorn started to tip out of the pocket. Luna reached for it instinctively, after years of being in a home full of books and resting them safely on their nooks. Also it was the point that she hadn't meant for Ginny to drop anything. She had only wished to stop her from her course.

To- To who, Luna thought while glimpsing a gold word. Her fingertip made contact with the cover and it was as rough and scaly as she could have imagined it. Due to her reaction, she got a nice angle on Ginny's face.

A spark, a blink, a wink blinded her. She felt it. It was traveling up her fingertips, blazing a path right to her mind's inner eye that saw it, understood it. It was a thought. The pulse and the frequency meant…it had just…it was similar to when Luna snapped out of her thoughts. This was the same as awaking and clawing at a bad dream. Then it burst. And she saw fingertips being sucked back into darkness. Someone was screaming, in alarm, in surprise, a rise of supine terror…being dragged back into that dark cellar full of cobwebs and dark like light, making patterns in the wisps of ash. It was brutality.

And someone else was coming.

She could see the flickering flames in the cursive-eyed windows, and the pair peered like irises of ire. Silence, except for the memory of the scream, was here as well as instinct. No footprints would be in the ebony snow near this Tower because no thing, even No-Life things, would venture closer. It might not have been fire…no, it was like sparks, thoughts, she thought. Fueled by books, pages throughout the ages because the snow was heavy and rough, somber and piceous pieces. Like lightening-bolts being made to the Head Master on top whom never is seen but heard…known! Lightening bolts themselves are shown.

In the midst of the black snow, Luna thought of a boy who lived after being struck, though his he-, no, hair might not be white…

…yet the Head Master was drawing nearer.

A door was opening and it wasn't Dumbledore's. Steps were creaking across a spindly bridge that was like a giant insect that had been hastily built, thrown together in a whirl of mind and eidolas with no real order, just the nuts and joints of chaos and bat wings.

Something was reaching for her, just brushing her fingertip. If she allowed it to, it would-

Luna let go of the book.

And the roar of the noise came back and the warmth of people's presence invading her limbs. Ginny was gone. In her place, someone stood just out of sight. The expression was solid. The animus climbed above her and looked down from whatever place it had scaled, perhaps with a ladder of ivy but she imagined it was whiter than that.

You see, the eyes said. Do you see now?

Luna thought there was relief there as well. She knew masks grew heavy and harder to remove each time one wore them. She had never liked masks. How can a game be played alone? It couldn't. Games were for fame. Fame fed on any greater than one. So there was an acceptance and an acknowledgment in the new stance Ginny's body presented. It seemed that this forgery of Ginny was taller, straining at some seams on this side of the mirror. No, not a mirror. It was from inside…a self-created reality propelled by magic. Change the lights and some colors refract instead of crack. Magic can ripple the air and do the trick.

One thought kept returning to her…I'm not taking off my hat.

She wouldn't know until later why it had popped up for she was pulled back by a hand on her shoulder.

"It's a little small, but I think it will fit the three of us. As long as you two don't decide to have sudden growth spurts," Mr. Lovegood added fondly, squeezing into slight space between the table and the chair.

Luna darted in front of Ginny to get to the seat beside her father. The other had put on the Ginny mesh again, and Luna wanted to buffer this presence from her father. Yet the Animus was not completely gone this time. Ginny could have sprouted another head to sit on her shoulder to stare at Luna relentlessly. Although the girl didn't look at her, she was still watching.

Mr. Lovegood had been startled by Luna's sudden seizing of the chair next to him. "So how's your father doing? I knew him way back when," Artemus said jovially.

The Ginny mesh gave a startled look, and fur was sticking through the ends of the fence, Luna thought.

"He's well. He's finally resting, you could say."

"Wonderful. Arthur always was on the go. A good man, if there ever was one. We knew each other in less than pleasant times, so you can either see the best or the worst of people. But Arthur…he always went with his feelings. I hear he's trying to pass a Muggle Protection Act. I can tell you, he's been planning it for half his life. Never had a chance before. Hope the Ministry isn't giving him a right time of it."

"Oh, we can hope. But I'm afraid that the government will stick to their position. Muggles have never been a part of our world, so the Ministry might not see the need to put effort and time to protect them…but the idea is delightful."

Mr. Lovegood smiled sadly.

"Ah, but there was a reason once…if we had had a law like that in the past…Be thankful you two are young. Your father saw some dark times. We all did."

"Was that when you met my father, Mr. Lovegood? He doesn't talk much about that time. I've asked but well, all the stories that I heard are a little hard to swallow."

Mr. Lovegood pulled his drink across the table and sipped it, perhaps thinking of a good way to make it smaller. His eyes were on Luna whose eyes were on Ginny.

He always kept dark topics away from his daughter and he was very protective of her. For her, he had wanted the world to be a place full of light. But, as Ginny Weasley was demonstrating to him, he couldn't keep her safe forever.

He believed most of what he told her. Belief was the ideal for him, the way he had gotten through the Dark Ages of You-Know-Who's reign. With belief, you could surmount anything. Believe all the magical creatures weren't being wiped out by both Muggles and Wizards alike. Believe there was good in everyone. If you stopped believing, you lost half the battle. But even belief…when You-Know-Who was around wasn't always enough.

Clearly Ginny Weasley wasn't afraid to bring out the darker faces of the world to the table with burning curiosity he couldn't quite place. He tried to keep in mind that she was young and didn't yet understand the trials of the world. He supposed he compared every little girl to his daughter. Luna, he realized, didn't dwell in the past unlike this child before him with hungry eyes, drawn to it even.

This child was intelligent. Fiercely so. He could sense it. Not that the girl had said anything remarkable yet. It was in her manner and her eyes. It was practically palpable and he could feel it, radiating from Arthur's little girl. He had turned to see how the girls were getting along, curious and anxious that everything was perfect, and…well, honestly he was a little frightened by the intensity on both of the small faces.

For Luna, it was all eyes and future. She would talk of her imagination and he would listen. Yet there were instances when her thoughts made him pause in awe. There was always truth in Luna. Talking with Lunette was like gazing through a looking-glass.

Perhaps that was why he was so desperate to keep her away from being tainted. His daughter was her own person now, free from his nest. It had taken a simple conversation on a holiday to make him realize that she had to know about the world. He would have to face it.

And was it as very bad as he felt it was? If Ginny was as comprehending and keen as he thought she was, then Ginny's influence can only be beneficial for Luna. Arthur Weasley would have raised his children well in a loving home. No doubt the slightly brazen red-head had sturdy foundation of basic ideals. He was sure of it.

Ginny had tapped her fingers on the table lightly, with the air of someone who knew odds and no evens as she waited. Luna, focused on her eyes, almost missed the rhythm. It was her own beat. The one she had tapped out in the library that night when the deviation appeared.

The girl tilted her head in a very un-feminine manner to smile at her hands, seeming fascinated by her control of the limbs. An instrument of music was all the hands were now, playing a fine tune that was stolen.

She could almost cry. There were two Ginnys. She had been talking to the tomb one the whole time. Something was buried inside of Ginny and had pulled her back. Ginny Weasley had been the one screaming. Yet was Ginny born this way? Luna wondered. Was this inherited? Was this the price of being the Heir of Slytherin?

"I don't know if your father would appreciate me telling you about…those terrible times, Ginny," her father broke in.

"I understand, sir. I was only curious. I've just always heard that forgetting about the past won't make it go away. It's better to know and correct it than let it…"

Luna had several words playing in her head. That tone gave her the material. Fester, rot, she thought. You mean to say 'rot'. But you aren't going to, are you? Because you make words mean whatever you want them to mean.

"…build up. I think I am old enough to hear it and not have sleepless nights. Trust me, my father won't mind."

Mr. Lovegood sighed, looking nervously at the table next to them, in case any ears caught their conversation.

"I met your father in the third year of, well, You-Know-Who's time in power. His followers-…"

"The Death Eaters…" Ginny added.

People who eat Death…Luna had never heard of such a thing. Further she thought of snakes swallowing everything whole and never dying because they grew immune to death while trying to control it. Really, Death Eaters must be running from Death, more than eating it. Death isn't finicky, she believed.

"No, not entirely, there were those who switched sides, traitors, and some rogue Dementors. You-Know-Who hadn't gotten the giants in the region under his control though he had a great many under his command. I'm just thankful he hadn't gained that tribe yet because I think we would have lost ground. Come to think of it, that was the first real battle in the war. Mostly it had been terrorism up till then. From what I hear, He started with the Muggles first, gaining the support of the younger wizards. Even then, You-Know-Who wasn't ever identified. It was like he popped up out of the ground. The Ministry didn't bother with the deaths of the Muggles, which is why I fully support your father's pushing the Muggle Protection Act. If it had been in place then, the Ministry would have had to respond immediately."

"Ah, pity," Ginny said. "The Ministry has always been slow to act. It would better if the Wizard World had had one true leader to motive the community, though of course, with advisors and representatives and such. The war wouldn't have gone on for as long and the conflict would have been resolved. In war, there is no time for hesitation."

To Luna's shock and disappointment, Mr. Lovegood nodded.

"We did have Bartemius Crouch at the time. He was climbing his way up and overriding a lot of the paper-pushing. Even created a council for himself. He was a shoe in for the Minster of Magic after the war was over until…until his son was caught with some remaining Death Eaters torturing an Auror's family. I knew them. And just when we were forgetting too."

"His own son…went to the Dark Lord's side?" Ginny asked with interest. "So it's possible He had influence inside the Ministry?"

"Oh, yes! As sure as I am sitting here. No one will try and prove it; I'm sure the current Minster spent a good half of his term covering up all the evidence. But thankfully, You-Know-Who was slowly losing his hold shortly before little Harry Potter defeated him. The later part of the war the attacks were sporadic and again, just cowards in masks torturing and killing the innocent, even children. I've always been of the opinion that he was losing his grip and slowly going more insane, if that's possible."

Luna felt something decided sepulcher-like in Ginny's face. The daughter of Janus was careful to look at her cup, swirling the contents inside with concentrated and well-practiced, bored Boardman. Luna glanced up to see if there was anything darker in the room, shifting shadows or men in masks, because Janus was a gate-keeper after all, of the ani birds.

"Fighting was almost at a stand-still near the end. Barty was a strong leader and smart too, not the sort that bentover backwards for the Ministry. Shame about his child."

"So there was a lull before Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord," Ginny said in a whisper while keeping her gaze on her mug.

"Yes, You-Know-Who's forces were smaller and Crouch would have had him in due time. He barely had any strategy in warfare but I suppose monsters like that never do. But Crouch didn't have to. The Boy-Who-Lived defeated You-Know-Who and helped save a lot of lives that would have been wasted."

"Oh, I don't know if this Crouch would have had him," the gate-keeper muttered with dream lily of a tone. "I think it is He who would have had Crouch."

"Pardon?" Mr. Lovegood looked confused.

As Ginny had said, another's truth could be someone else's lie. And lay low while Crouch takes his power for the day. Crouch would have taken away the steps in the foundation of the Ministry, leaving it teetering and oscillating wildly. It would fall without his hand. No, not his hand. Any hand.

She could see Crouch now in her mind, framed at a window in the pinnacle of the Ministry. Looking over his now collected and calm Wizarding domain with his shoulders tall…then his son stands behind him, with the watchful look of an ani bird. It made her hands shake. For in the corners, through the doors, and from the cracks of avarice came the rest of his flock.

An explosion of glass raining down on stones like hail…Beware, the sky is falling. Watch out for stray hubris.

"Mr. Crouch's son," Luna said with the calmness an answer brings. "He was the prized piece."

Ginny granted her an appraising nod, with a first, real smile. Her eyes looked pleased.

"And a coup de grace. But who knows?" Ginny added. "The mind of a monster is foreign to us all. But it's the holidays. I guess I shouldn't have brought it up. Let's talk about something lighter. How about the famous Harry Potter? It's my very favorite part of the story."

Luna flew to the haven of the toilets, excusing herself quickly. Her father and Ginny didn't seem to mind, engrossed in theories of the Boy-Who-Lived.

She was still shaking and took to pacing the small space at a quick pace.

The world she had just been shown had upset her beyond measure. War, teetering towers, and a scream…

The Heir was there and what could she do?

Ginny Weasley was gone and what could she do?

And the interest in You-Know-Who had startled her, derailing her train of thoughts completely. And then Harry Potter…the Heir and Harry Potter, the Heir wanted something from the stricken boy who had been struck by lightening. Who was the Heir?

Who knows? Who. Who knows. I know. I am.

Luna froze, letting her thoughts go.

To-To who. I am Who. The Who in the You-Know-Who.

Luna slid to the floor, using the wall as a wavering support and quite numb. She shook her head in silent disagreement with her thoughts. She found that she was shaking, curled up just like when she was younger and the night had fallen and things were moving beyond the veil.

How could that be possible? Harry Potter had defeated him. So the Heir could be just interested in that part alone.

"That's right. It's a curious thing to be curious about. It's the most fascinating thing in the Wizarding World to survive…"

Death. Death Eaters. Harry Potter accomplished everything they had wanted.

But that's part of the past. The past can not be in the present. If that was the case, then there would be no difference between the two. Except for…it could be in a book. The past is always in a book and can be made the present for when you read it, it comes alive.

Luna cupped her face in her hands.

The book was the key; the diary was the spindly bridge, with bumps along the surface turning into a pattern of a pulse. Could it be a gateway or merely just worthwhile words? Words had power and written word held a bountiful bonus. It's in the arrangement, it's in the numbers of spaces and length, it's the hidden beats, and it's in the magic binding to a word.

So it could be possible that the Heir was…was the Dark Lord.

Lord Voldemort.

It doesn't matter who it is, Luna thought. What matters is that Ginny Weasley is in trouble and Harry Potter is in double trouble.

Harry Potter is in danger.

What could she do?

Luna stood up slowly and placed her hands on the cool, blissfully white sink. After splashing her face with cold water, she felt better, more awake.

She wasn't a child anymore. She was a witch, a Ravenclaw witch.

A responsibility had come her way. With knowledge comes responsibility. So she was sure she had both. What she wasn't sure of was fate. How had such odd ends come together without fate?

She hadn't believed in fate's hands. She believed in paths and the obstacles that pop out of the ground. Fate was how you reacted to the obstacle. It was also you too. So she had to have a reaction. Luna knew that she couldn't abandon that reaching hand in the dark, be it fate or a very scared and scarred girl. She would have to reach back because she could imagine feeling that alone without hope. Harry Potter was no exception to this feeling either, and he wore his own scar for everyone to look at and know. Luna couldn't imagine knowing that people knew.

So she would have to help and not with thoughts alone. She would have to give them claws. Her thoughts would have to become wit.


End file.
